


Mando and Sparro

by ZenBunni



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Repressed, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Mandalorian, Mando'a, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Romance, Sexy Times, Slow Burn, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenBunni/pseuds/ZenBunni
Summary: Din Djarin meets his match with Sparro, a friend of Cara Dune's that asks him to rescue. He tries to keep his distance but she wears him down. Still a work in progress.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	1. The Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cara asks a favor of her friend the Mandalorian.

Din Djarin hadn’t planned to be back in Navarro so soon, but he owed Cara. When he received a holomessage from her asking for his assistance, there was no question that he would turn the Razor Crest in that direction. Fortunately, while the situation was still a bit strained between Greef Karga and him, they had come to an understanding after the Child had saved Greef’s life.

The Child cooed from the pram behind him and to his right, and he glanced back to be sure that he was sufficiently entertained with fiddling with the Mythosaur necklace that he wore around his neck. It was a reminder that Din was now responsible for the Child in a way he’d never anticipated. Who would have guessed that they would become a family of two when Din had rescued the Child from the Imperial remnant facility?

Well, it was a fact now, and Din returned his attention to the holomessage from Cara, playing it again, looking for details that she hadn’t provided.

“Mando, I’m sure you weren’t planning on our paths crossing again anytime soon.” Her miniature image stood tall, feet spread, thick arms crossed over her chest and with a ready- but cocky- grin on her face. He wasn’t fooled- he saw the worry in her eyes, even through the holomessage. What was she so troubled about? “I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’ve got your own problems, but I was hoping you could help me out with a problem of my own. It’s…” She looked away here, and the first time he had watched the holomessage he had immediately starting inputting the coordinates for Navarro. He hadn’t even needed to listen to the rest of the message- her uncharacteristic hesitation had been enough. She finally took a long breath, and then looked back up, and that cocky grin was back and the worry had been cleared from her eyes. “I’ll tell you more if you come. It’s not safe to share any more information in a message. Thanks, Mando.”

There was never a question of him going or not. Cara had asked, and he owed her.

Cara met him at the cantina where Greef managed the Guild from. She was sitting in the back corner, sipping on something bright green from a heavy glass. She spotted him the moment he entered, and set her glass down and motioned for him to join her. He examined her face as he approached, ignoring the looks he was receiving from the other customers that ranged from fear to hostility. Cara’s face showed only friendliness… and relief. He sat down at the table, waving off the fawning server who tried to ask if he wanted anything. He settled his hands on his knees and just waited.

“Talkative as always, I see. Nothing’s changed, Mando!” Kara clutched her heavy glass in her hand, turning it in circles, restless in a way he had never seen in her before. He tipped his head slightly, just watching her, wondering what it was she wanted from him. “Where’s the kid?”

“Sleeping.”

Cara frowned slightly, but her eyes were distracted. “You left him alone again? You haven’t learned your lesson yet?”

He shrugged. “The Cantina isn’t a very safe place for him.”

“As safe as any other place. You know damn well that Greef has cleared you of any charges, and declared the Child your ward. He isn’t to be touched.”

Din shrugged again. “He’s safer on the Razor Crest.”

Cara shook her head, a lock of her dark hair sliding across her forehead. “I’m sorry, Mando, I didn’t ask you here to lecture you.”

He didn’t speak, just watched her, waiting.

Cara rubbed at her forehead with one hand, and then smoothed that stray lock of hair back behind her ear. It was a vulnerable gesture, and one that surprised him. Cara had never seemed so unsure of herself. She was always confident, always poised. “I need a favor.”

“We’ve established that. What is it that you need from me, Cara?”

She bit her lip and her gaze dropped again. His eyes narrowed, although he knew she couldn’t see them past the visor of his helmet. What was she up to?

Suddenly, Cara looked back up at him, and just as she had in her holomessage, she had cleared the worry from her eyes. “It’s actually a friend who is in trouble. I can’t go where she is, I’d be putting both her and I in danger. I was hoping you could go and help her.”

“I thought you didn’t have any friends.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed a little. “Aren’t we friends, Mando?”

“Tell me about the situation, Cara.”

“This is someone I trust more than I trust anyone else in the universe, Mando, and I know you know what that means. She’s not my sister by blood, but she may as well be. We’ve been through a lot over the years, and she’s in danger. And I’ll be frank, if you don’t go, I will, whether it jeopardizes her safety or not. Because she’d be safer with me coming for her than remaining where she is.” She hesitated again, and he was certain he didn’t want to know what she was going to say next. “She’s on Vasheere.”

Mando stiffened slightly. “Vasheere. Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“How did she get herself mixed up with the Cooz Clan? Doesn’t get much more dangerous than that.”

Cara looked down at her glass again, watching the brilliant green liquid slosh as she turned the glass. “She was protecting the daughter of a nobleman, and they were taken captive. Now the daughter is apparently in love with Frale Cooz and that left my friend in dire straits, stuck between her client and the Clan. Frale has decided that she is an impediment to his impending nuptials with the nobleman’s daughter, and she is now on the run in the ruins.”

Mando nodded slowly. “So you need her located and picked up. And then what, brought here?”

Cara took a deep, slow breath and then blew it out just as slowly. “Actually… I was hoping you could keep her moving for awhile, while I negotiate with her client. It could be a win-win situation, Mando. I mean, come on, you need some help with the Child, and she needs a safe place to be. Where safer then with the most bad-ass bounty hunter in the Guild?” She offered a weak smile, her gaze searching his helmet, clearly trying to sense what his decision would be.

“I travel alone, Cara.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes again. “Psht, please. You offered me a spot on your crew. And I can promise you that she will be a whole lot more useful to you than I would have been. I mean, she can cook Mando, and I don’t just mean getting creative with ration bars. She’s useful in a fight, and she is way more maternal than I could ever even imagine being. She’d look after your kid as if he were her own.” Her eyes went past him suddenly, and he stiffened again. Her smile was wry. “Yeah, you might want to think long and hard about this, Mando.” She motioned behind him, and he turned slightly to watch as the Child toddled toward them across the busy cantina. “He needs a babysitter.”

Din pushed away from the table, scooping up the Child and nestling him in the crook of his arm. He stood then and stared at Cara, considering. “How long would I need to keep her?”

Cara shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. But I can promise you that as soon as I know she is safe, I will put every effort into clearing up her situation. I won’t stop until it’s all handled, and I won’t expect you to do more than keep her moving and give her a safe place to sleep. You won’t even have to entertain her, I promise. She’s quiet, and used to being on her own. Please Mando, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t trust you.”

Din sighed deeply and then nodded once, curtly. “Okay. Any clues on where to start? The ruins are a big place.”

Cara offered him a beaming smile, and he felt something tug deep inside his belly. He had a feeling he was going to regret this. “I’ve programmed a tracking fob with her biometric data. It should lead you straight to her. Thank you, Mando.” She offered him the fob and he took a deep breath before taking it.

“How will I know her?”

“Oh, you’ll know her when you see her.” She laughed softly, a little breathlessly, clearly amused. “And be careful with her, okay?”

He tipped his head slightly, a little annoyed. “I thought you trusted me with her safety.”

Cara laughed again, louder this time. “Oh no, Mandalorian, it’s not her safety I’m worried about, it’s yours.”

What was that supposed to mean? It was a good thing she couldn’t see his scowl. He tucked it into a pouch on his belt and nodded curtly, then turned and walked out of the cantina.

********

Vasheere was one of three moons that circled the planet Noveba. Rich in ores, the planet had been almost decimated over the decades by mining operations. The three moons, however, still housed life. Vasheere, the largest of the moons, was home to the Cooz Clan, a band of cut-throat mercenaries who had more or less settled the moon as a home base for their infamous adventures in crime. Bara Cooz, the matriarch of the Clan, had supposedly retired from her life of crime to live a posh life as the local nobility. Vasheere’s most popular attraction was the menagerie, a veritable zoo composed of creatures from all over the galaxy. Rumor was that the Cooz Clan hosted fights featuring these creatures, although as far as Din knew, they were just that- rumors.

The ruins covered at least a quarter of the moon- strange, geometric-shaped piles of rubble overgrown with the heavy vines that grew so prolifically on Vasheere. Unfortunately, the ruins were also the perfect breeding grounds for Arachnafods- ten-legged creatures with a venomous bite and a nasty temperament. Few people ventured into the ruins because of the palm-sized creatures. When he had visited Vasheere- the only time he had braved a visit to the moon- he had almost been bitten by one of them that had managed to creep into the cloth protecting his neck- if it hadn’t been for that heavy cloth, he’d have been dead.

That brought to mind another problem. How to keep the Child safe while he searched for Cara’s friend? She hadn’t even given him a name- he would have to recognize her friend by the tracking fob. If he landed in the ruins, which was the best option to prevent any interaction with the Cooz Clan, he would have to find a way to keep the Child inside the damned Razor Crest. If the Child left the Crest, he’d be in danger from the Arachnafods. Or, he could take the Child with him. He sighed deeply as he navigated the Razor Crest out of hyperdrive and the system where he would find Vasheere snapped into focus. Leaving the Child asleep was clearly out of the question. Even thinking about the Child toddling down Navarro’s dangerous streets and alleys to find him at the cantina gave him a cold chill. He would have to tote him along.

Landing the Razor Crest in the ruins had been the best option, and he’d even found a relatively small clearing to land in. The tracking fob was blinking slowly but insistently, indicating that his prey was fairly close. He settled the Child into the sling across his chest, and then checked his weapons one final time before he opened the hatch and stepped out into the damp, muggy atmosphere of Vasheere.

Bugs immediately assailed them, and he tugged the cloth of the sling up over the Child’s head to protect his sensitive ears. His armor would prevent most of the blood-sucking flying insects from eating him alive, but the Child was vulnerable. Din had no idea if the Child was susceptible to Cooz Flu, as the illness often carried by the bugs had been called. The Cooz Clan had originally synthesized the sickness as a bio-weapon, and unfortunately the flying insects often now carried it. One thing was fortunate, at least- the Cooz Clan members were just as prone to catch the illness as most anyone else. Fortunately, as usually happened, the Child fell asleep nestled up against the cool beskar of Din’s cuirass. That was one problem solved, anyhow.

The ruins were just as disgusting as Din remembered them being. The heavy vines were difficult to traverse and the footing was treacherous as the stone that the ancient city had been built with crumbled easily. The damned Arachnafods were hiding in every little crevice they could find, just waiting for him to make a mistake and offer a tempting bit of skin to bite. Taking careful steps, Din followed the tracking fob away from the Razor Crest.


	2. The Uncertain Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din has picked up Cara's friend, and he isn't quite certain what to think of her.

Din froze as a soft voice spoke near his helmet. “Move, and I will cut you faster than you can blink.”

How had she managed to sneak up on him? It just wasn’t possible, unless she had some sort of cloaking capabilities. He lifted his hands to his sides, trying to placate the female who was close behind him. “Are you Carasynthia Dune’s friend?”

“Who wants to know?” The voice was quiet but intense, and clearly meant business.

“Another one of her friends. She sent me to find you.”

A soft huff of laughter. “Cara doesn’t have any other friends. And what, did she put a bounty out on me? Why in the stars would she do that?”

Din bit back a growl of frustration. Whatever weapon she had, it probably wouldn’t hurt him, but the Child was vulnerable where he slept in the sling. “Cara said you needed help off Vasheere.”

“Hmph. Well, that’s true, anyway. Turn around.”

He turned around slowly, keeping his hands away from his blaster. He looked her over in the uneven light filtering through the vines overhead. She was examining him, as well.

She was as different from Cara as night and day. Slight and petite, she barely came up the base of his helmet. She looked to be ridiculously fragile, as if she might shatter if the wind picked up. Her hair was fine and pale gold, pulled mostly back from her face in a ponytail with a few wispy tendrils clinging to her damp, slightly flushed cheeks. Her eyes were a color difficult to determine in the uncertain light, and large in her oval face. She was wearing diaphanous layers that draped her slender body and hid more than they concealed with soft slouchy boots covering her feet. She looked like a child, almost, although the vibroknife in her hand certainly didn’t look like a toy.

Shock lit up her face and she breathed out a sigh of pleased surprise. “A Mandalorian. She sent a Mandalorian.”

He waited, unsure whether he should try to overpower her or if she was going to cooperate with this damned rescue. He didn’t want to hurt her.

“So, what’s Cara’s plan then, Mandalorian?” She straightened to her full- meager- height, lowering the weapon and disengaging it.

Din lowered his hands, relieved. “You believe me, then?”

She laughed softly, her face radiant. “Oh, you have no idea how much. The plan?”

“You’re to come with me, and I’m to keep you moving until Cara contacts me again.”

“Hmph. That’s a lame plan.” She seemed to consider him with a strange smile for a long moment, tapping her booted foot on the rubble beneath her dainty feet. “Well, I guess I’d be no worse off than I am now, hiding in these blasted ruins and dusting spiders from my hair. Okay Mandalorian, lead the way. I assume you have a ship nearby?”

A little flustered at her sudden about-face, but not wanting to risk her changing her mind, Mando led the way back to the Razor Crest, cradling the Child to his chest protectively. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but this little bundle of fiery energy wasn’t it.

********

She was somewhere down in his personal space, making herself comfortable. He felt a little betrayed at how swiftly she had won over the Child, who had reached for her immediately with his chubby little claws. Laughing, she had gathered the Child into her slender arms and nuzzled her snubbed nose into his wispy hair. Glowering- which of course she could not see- Din had eyed her closely in the better light of the Razor Crest’s cargo area.

His initial impression hadn’t been far off the mark, although the light revealed creases beside her surprisingly generous mouth and fine lines beside her eyes. This was a female who laughed often. Her face had been spared from appearing ethereal by a light smattering of freckles, a deep crease of a scar slanted through one eyebrow, and a nose that was snubbed at the tip. One thing she had in common with Cara, at least, was her blasted confidence. She had immediately ordered him to get them as far away from Vasheere as he was willing to go, and then had propped the Child on her hip and scrambled one-handed down the ladder to disappear into his space.

What was she doing? Every now and then he heard a rustle or a clink as she did…something. What was she up to? He grumbled silently and forced his attention to return to flying the Razor Crest. It wasn’t as if she could really cause any trouble, and he didn’t even have any bounties on board. He felt instinctively that she wouldn’t hurt the Child, and so… he tamped down his annoyance and his frustration and tried his best to ignore her presence on his ship.

Until she popped up again, right behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his beskar. How had she done that again? It should have been impossible for her to sneak up on him, especially on his own damn ship. Something smelled good, though. Really good. As in, his mouth was suddenly watering, good. She shoved a bowl against his chest, clattering it against his cuirass, and smiled at him expectantly until he wrapped one glove around the bowl to support it. “Supper. The kid and I will stay downstairs so you’ll have privacy. Join us once you’ve eaten, hm?”

And then she was gone. Confused and a little disconcerted, he looked down at the bowl as he processed her words. Clearly she knew something about his culture, to be confident that he would only eat if he had privacy. Shaking his head, he glanced behind him, and then removed his helmet- keeping an ear angled toward the rear of the ship in case she should sneak up on him again- and picked up the spoon that was nestled in whatever the strange gray-brown gunk was in the bowl that smelled even more tempting without his helmet on.

Whatever it was, the taste was even better than the smell. Cara had been right- her friend could cook. Where had she even dug up the supplies to create this? She’d only been carrying a small bag slung over her back, and he knew damn well exactly what supplies he had on board. Shrugging, he finished the meal as quickly as he could, and then put his helmet back on. Bemused, he went to find his passenger.

She had rigged up a dining table of sorts from a couple of the crates he had had stashed in the cargo hold. The Child was sitting in an improvised high chair and banging on his bowl with a spoon, clearly enjoying the meal. Din stood awkwardly with his empty bowl in hand, watching the rather domestic scene as the female he had picked up encouraged the Child to feed himself without making a mess.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes laughing. They were hazel, he decided, and seemed to change color with her moods. “Ah good, you finished it all. Was it to your liking?”

He nodded silently.

“Excellent!” She reached for the bowl and he handed it to her, continuing to watch her from the safety of his helmet. She seemed to almost… vibrate with an energy that filled the small space. “I’ll wash these dishes up and then this little womp rat needs a dip in the ‘fresher I think!” She wrinkled her nose and laughed softly as the Child beamed up at her with the gray-brown gunk smeared across his little green face. “I’ll come and find you, Mandalorian, when we are all done.”

Feeling dismissed, he hesitated before turning back toward the cockpit. Annoyed, and yet realizing it was silly to be so bothered, he concentrated on the stars zooming by until she came up into the cockpit again and settled herself into the seat that the Child usually occupied. She curled up in the space, tucking her legs beneath her and resting her head on one hand with her elbow propped on the arm of the seat. Her hair was damp- she’d made use the ‘fresher herself- and she smelled like his soap. Something primal curled is his belly at the scent of her and he tamped the feeling down ruthlessly before it could take root. She was a passenger, a job. Nothing more.

“Okay, Mandalorian, what’s the plan? I’m not naïve; I know you don’t work for free. How much is Cara paying you? Is it enough to keep me on the move for awhile? And how can I contribute? By caring for the kid? Preparing meals? Keeping the ship spic and span?”

He mused silently for a moment before speaking. She waited patiently, that slight smile curving her generous mouth and lighting her eyes to a misty blue-green. “I owe Cara, and this is my way of repaying her. If you would help to care for the Child, it would be much appreciated. I… don’t like leaving him alone on the ship while I work.”

Her smile grew just a bit. “I don’t blame you. I suspect that one is capable of great mischief. I can do that, I love children, and for some strange reason, they love me too, so it’s easy enough.”

He could imagine why kids were attracted to her- she was like a fairy from an ancient tale, all sparkling magic and light and stardust. He scowled beneath his helmet. What had gotten into him? “Thank you.” He kept his tone neutral, not revealing what was going through his head. He had never been one for fanciful imaginings.

“Thank you, Mandalorian.”

“Most call me Mando.” Now why had that slipped out? Was it because ‘Mandalorian’ sounded so formal coming from her?

“Hmph. I’ve always felt that was a slur, of sorts. If you insist, I can call you that. But I’d really rather not.” Her smile didn’t slip but something beneath it hardened slightly.

Interesting. He shrugged. “I don’t know your name. Cara didn’t tell me.”

That smile softened again. “Just call me Sparro.” Then she had disappeared again, and it wasn’t until later- much later- that he went looking for her that he found her, propped up in a corner of the cargo hold with the Child sprawled across her chest in a nest of blankets, both fast asleep. He stood watching her for a long moment. He had meant to offer her his bunk, although giving up that last shred of privacy went against all instincts. He slipped into the tiny space and closed the door, sealing the lock before he removed his armor and settled on his bunk. Visions of fairies danced in his head as he fell into a restless sleep.

‘Sparro’ fit herself into his life surprisingly easily. He had anticipated all sorts of awkwardness but she was quiet and circumspect. Most of the time she kept the Child entertained down in the cargo hold, playing games with him and telling him stories. Din had taken to listening in on those stories, curious about her. He told himself it was natural to be curious about this stranger who had invaded their lives. Her voice was easy to listen to, often full of laughter and he could easily envision the slight smile that almost always curved her lips no matter what task she was working on.

She fed them, working some strange magic with the supplies on board, and when they made their first stop she gave him a list of supplies to pick up, and it was clear the list had been customized to the system he had chosen. Interesting.

“I’ll be back in a day or so.” Din opened his weapon cabinet and choose his arsenal, making sure he was well armed and that all of his ammunition was stocked up. This bounty shouldn’t be too complicated, although getting to him would be a bit of a challenge. Yamao was an ice planet and so he had layered as much as he could.

Sparro was leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed across her chest, draped in those strange layers of hers. She was watching the child stack blocks of wood- although where the blocks had come from he had no idea. She nodded distractedly. “Are you going after a bounty?”

“Yes.” He closed the cabinet and then stood awkwardly. His routine had been disrupted again. Typically now would be a lecture to the Child to stay in the ship and stay safe. Instead… “Can you shoot a blaster?”

She gave him a slanted look, and he was certain that she was laughing at him silently. “Yes.”

He opened the cabinet again, made sure the blaster he chose for her was loaded, and then passed it over to her. “If you run into any trouble…”

She waved him off, but took the blaster. “We’ll be fine. Go, do your work. But be sure to gather those supplies, okay?”

He nodded once and then slipped silently from the ship. The Child didn’t even seem to notice that he was leaving.

********

He was sick of the cold already. It had taken far longer to track down his prey than he had estimated, and he was worried about the Child. Trudging through a fresh layer of snow toward the Razor Crest, he tamped down the shivers that threatened to wrack his tired body again. His bounty walked ahead of him, cuffs on, grumbling curses. When he reached his ship, the hatch was open and Sparro stood backlit by the welcoming light coming from inside. He hesitated, a little annoyed that she was greeting him at his own ship, but then he nudged the suddenly reluctant bounty up the ramp with his blaster and he was home, in his ship, where he felt safe.

The Child was nowhere in sight. Sparro stood back at a safe distance, her usual smile gone as she watched with sober eyes as Din dropped the bag of supplies and wrestled the uncooperative bounty into the carbon-freezing chamber and hit the button. He motioned toward the bag tiredly. “I got everything on your list.” She nodded her thanks silently, her eyes dark. “Is the Child okay?” She nodded again, watching him. He almost missed her usual energy. Was there something wrong? Well, it would have to wait. The cold had exhausted him far beyond his usual capabilities and he’d been wounded. He wanted privacy to cauterize the wound. “Can you watch the ship while I get some sleep?” Again, that silent nod. He nodded back, and then shuffled toward his quarters, sealing the door behind him.

She must have been listening for him, because when he came out of his quarters after sleeping for a couple of hours she was across the way from his door, holding a steaming mug of caf. She offered it to him, eyes again bright with her internal laughter. “I know you probably won’t drink it, but you can at least warm your hands on the mug.” The Child peered from around her legs, blinking big dark eyes up at Din and grinning. He hesitated before he took the mug from her and then turned toward the cockpit. The sooner they left this freezing planet the better.

“Are you hungry?”

He hesitated again, and then turned his head to address her. “No, I’m fine.”

She didn’t respond as he climbed the ladder and then settled into the pilot’s seat.

The Child appeared at his side later, and he snapped out of his musings to gather him into his lap, distractedly passing over the knob that the Child had claimed as his toy. The Child cooed contentedly and nestled up against his cuirass, and Din took comfort in the small, solid weight against his chest. He hadn’t spent much time with the Child since taking Sparro on board, and he had missed the little guy. To be honest with himself, he admitted that he had felt a little envious with Sparro’s easy ways, with her natural approach of dealing with the Child. He had been remiss in not making sure the Child had time to play, and toys to entertain him. Keeping him cooped up on the Razor Crest hadn’t been fair either- even Din went a little stir crazy after too long on board.

The little one eventually dozed off against his chest and Din went ahead and set the autopilot and dozed along with him, his helmet clunking back against the seat.

Sparro was watching him when he woke. He could feel her presence before he turned his helmet to look at where she was perched in the passenger seat, knees bent and with her arms curled around her legs, just her eyes and the bridge of her nose visible over the diaphanous fabric of her skirt. Her feet were bare, and that seemed to shift something in his gut. He shoved the feeling away almost angrily- they were just feet.

He turned his head away, gently cupping the Child as he shifted a little and checked their coordinates. “Something I can do for you?”

“It was his naptime, and I came looking for him, but you both looked so peaceful… I didn’t want to intrude.” And yet, she had. She wasn’t finished though. “I heard you using the cauterizer. Those things aren’t the best option for wounds.” She spoke firmly but he could sense the hesitation in her.

“I don’t have any Bacta. Besides, the cauterizer works fine. I use it all the time.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” There was no humor in her tone- rather she sounded resigned. “But will you at least give me a chance to look at your wounds next time before you start lasering them? Maybe I can save you some scars at least. Besides, there are far more efficient ways to heal.” He didn’t respond, and she sighed. “Think about it, okay? I won’t press, as long as you will at least think about it. If nothing else, the little guy needs you to be hale and hearty.”

She did have a point there. After another brief silence, he finally spoke. “I’ll think about it. Why don’t you go get some rest while he’s napping? We’ll be to my next destination before too much longer.”

She slipped silently from the cockpit, and he was a bit startled to realize that he missed her presence once she’d gone.

Din alternated between feeling lonelier with her presence taking over his ship, and feeling restless at having to share his space. Sparro was never obtrusive, never too in his face, at least not directly. But he wasn’t used to spending so much time in the presence of anyone other than the Child. It had been a long time since he had been a part of a team for more than the time it took to complete one mission. She didn’t really interact with him much directly, and most of her focus was on the Child. He caught himself several times making excuses to hover nearby during her storytelling, and he began to look forward the eating something other than ration bars. The Child was flourishing under her care as well, constantly happy, napping on a schedule, and practically glowing with good health.

She was an excellent influence on the Child and, if Din was being honest, on himself as well. Her presence was soothing and gentle, and while most of the time he didn’t really know what to do with soothing and gentle, the contrast she provided to his life seemed to offer a sort of balance to the violence he faced daily. By choice, certainly, but he still had to provide fuel and food and after all, there were still the Child’s people to find.

The loneliness was what confounded him. He had always enjoyed his isolation. Spending so much time with the Child had hindered that, to a certain degree, and while he wouldn’t change it for the world, there had been times he had needed so very badly for the Child to just take a nap so that he could get his thoughts back in order. Now, he had Sparro's assistance. The Child sought her out for minor scrapes and falls just as much as he did Din. She snuggled and comforted and kissed the injuries better, while Din didn’t think he was capable of such… coddling. And yet there were times that nothing Sparro did comforted the little guy, and he would cry himself hoarse until Din returned from whatever bounty he was hunting to pay attention to him.

So why did he feel so lonely with them just on the side of a very small ship? Was it because he felt left out of their games, because he wasn’t invited to listen openly to the stories? Was it because they shared laughter over their meals, and cuddles at naptime?

Preposterous. Din wasn’t capable of that kind of behavior. Even thinking about acting that way made him sneer. He was a Mandalorian. He was a bounty hunter. He was… Well, to be blunt, he really was lonely.


	3. The Guest Makes Herself Useful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparro has made herself comfortable in Din and the Child's life.

Din focused all of his rapidly disappearing energy and concentration on reaching the Razor Crest. He stumbled again, reached out for something to catch himself on and found nothing, and fell flat on his face. With a grunt he pushed himself laboriously onto his back, staring up at the rapidly darkening purple sky above. He had been careless and distracted, and this is what happened to careless and distracted bounty hunters. His prey had fled, and he was dying.

Come on, Din, get a hold of yourself. Get up. You have to reach the Razor Crest. With a gasp and a deep growl, he rolled to his side and slowly but surely pushed himself back onto his feet. He could see her in the distance, shimmering in a haze of heat that was swiftly fading as the three suns set on the distant horizon. He focused again on his steps- one foot, then the other, then the first again. His toes were dragging, he couldn’t seem to get his head up, and his helmet seemed to weight so very much all of a sudden.

He started to count his steps, promising himself a short rest for every twenty steps. He lost count at eight, and with a soft curse started over, out loud this time. He stumbled again, but caught himself this time, and made it to twenty steps. What was he supposed to do at twenty steps? He couldn’t remember.

Well, there was nothing for it but to count again. One… Two… His legs suddenly went weak and he fell, landing roughly on his hands and knees. He muttered a quick thank you to his gloves for protecting his hands, until he noticed that he’d lost the finger to one of the gloves and his skin beneath was looking rather… raw. That was strange. Maybe it would be best to just lay here. He could rest here, on the ground, just for a short time. He slowly let the weight of his body drag him down to sprawl in the dirt. Just a short rest. Just…

There was a strange screech that seemed to reverberate within his helmet and made him squeeze his eyes closed as involuntary tears welled up in them. The pain in his head was immense. Then he heard rapid footsteps coming swiftly nearer. With hands that were numb and uncooperative, he tried to fumble at his belt for his blaster but soon gave up. He was finished. He knew that with a certainty that took deep root in his gut. This was how it was going to end- and how had he allowed this to happen, anyhow?

Strong but small hands were tugging on his clothes and he tried valiantly to fight off his attacker. Then a sudden curse in a familiar, soft, but suddenly not-so-gentle voice broke through the fog that seemed to be enveloping him. “Spa-.” Blood spattered from his lips to splash the inside of his helmet. “Spa-.”

“Shh, quit trying to speak you damned fool. We have to get you onto the ship.”

“No… Leave. You haf… you have to leave…” Forming the words was one of the hardest things he had ever done. “Can you… fly… Do you… know…”

“Yes, I know how to fly your damned ship, but we are not leaving you here. Dammit Mandalorian, help me! Come on now, on your feet!”

Her sudden sharp and commanding tone seemed to trigger some deep-set instinct to respond to her orders. A surge of strength flooded him and he was cooperating now, helping her to get him to first his knees and then to his feet. He leaned heavily on her, and a distant part of his mind that wasn’t gabbling in confusion tried to tell him not to put so much weight on her fragile form. She tucked herself beneath his arm, though, and leaned into him, forcing him in the direction of the Razor Crest. He nearly fell again, and she spit out some of the most creative curses he had ever heard before she got him moving again.

Then they were stumbling up the ramp, and then the hatch was closing behind them. She stepped away from him abruptly and he collapsed in a jarring, noisy clatter of beskar against the metal of the cargo hold floor. He scrabbled weakly, trying to find something to clutch on to, trying to pull himself deeper into the ship. His vision was skewed within his helmet, and something was flashing brilliant red in the HUD display distractedly.

Either the ship was moving or he was. He groaned and closed his eyes, willing his head to stop spinning and the pain to ease off. He couldn’t even pinpoint where the pain was originating from… it just felt like… everywhere. Then suddenly, from one heartbeat to the next, everything went blissfully dark.

“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living.”

Din forced gritty eyes open, realizing abruptly that with the return of consciousness came the return of pain. But at least now, it wasn’t completely and utterly overwhelming all of his senses. Now, while the pain was a major distraction, at least it was bearable.

The HUD in his helmet was still slightly skewed, although the red flashing had stopped. “What happened?”

A soft, wry chuckle sounded to his left, and he turned his head to see Sparro perched on a crate that she had squeezed into his very small quarters. She looked mussed for the very first time, her hair tangled and loose around her shoulders, and there were dark, rusty splotches marring the gauzy fabric of her clothing. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and bruised with exhaustion. Her expression was inexplicably blank, and he realized with a start that it was the first time he had seen her so… neutral. She was usually effervescent with visible emotion. “I was hoping you could tell me. You came stumbling back to the ship empty handed, two days after you said you’d likely return. You were nearly dead.” She held up a hand and started ticking off on her slender fingers. “Punctured lung, ruptured spleen, dislocated shoulder, and I am pretty sure the only reason you don’t have a concussion is because your helmet was protecting your thick head. Not to mention several other serious external wounds. You also suffered a significant loss of blood.”

He breathed in sharply, shocked that it didn’t hurt more. “How-.”

“Well, now, that’s the interesting part. The baby apparently healed you.” There was a note of awe in her voice, although her face was still shuttered and tired. “Well, he tried to anyhow. He passed out partway through-.” She reached out and placed a firm, unyielding hand on his chest. “Don’t you dare get up.”

Her touch made him realize that he was no longer wearing his armor. He had been changed into the loose trousers and soft shirt that he usually slept in. There was a bandage wrapped around his left forearm, and his right middle finger was splinted. She must have undressed him. Fury and panic washed through him, pushing through the pain. Had she removed his helmet?

She read his thoughts. “The baby is fine; he’s sleeping, and has been for most of the night. But he woke long enough to eat like a ravenous Wampa before falling asleep again. He wore himself out saving your life. And no, I did not remove your helmet. Your credo is intact. Which means that I expect you to hustle yourself into the ‘fresher as soon as you can to check for any damage that needs attention. I won’t lie, I was sorely tempted, but when the child healed you, I made the assumption that if it was life threatening, he had dealt with it. My exam afterward validated that. You’ll live. By the grace of the gods and the stars, you’ll live.”

“It was a trap.” He hadn’t meant to say anything out loud, but he heard his voice uttering the words all the same. His tone was as flat and tired as hers was. He relaxed back into his bunk the best he could, trying to ignore all of the aches and pains that wracked him. “The irony was, it wasn’t a trap for me. I just managed to stumble into it. My bounty was killed, and I didn’t even manage to get my hands on the body. At least I can report that he’s dead, even though I won’t get paid for it.”

She sat silently at his side for a long span of moments, and then she sighed. “Are you hungry?”

He wasn’t, not really. He should be, probably, since he couldn’t even remember when he had eaten last. She apparently took his silence for affirmation, as she pushed to her feet tiredly. “I’ll throw something together.”

Without thinking, his left hand snapped out and caught her wrist. It was the first time he had touched her voluntarily, and he marveled for a moment at how fragile her bones felt, how soft her skin. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had touched someone other than the Child skin-to-skin. “No, wait.”

She stood motionless, his blood staining her clothing, staring down at his helmet with tired, dark eyes.

“Thank you.”

She nodded and a tiny, sad smile tipped up one corner of her generous mouth for a moment before she tugged her wrist free from his grasp and slipped from the room.

Later… much, much later… the child was cradled on Din’s lap in the pilot’s seat napping contentedly when Sparro slipped into her usual seat behind him and to his right. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “You terrified me. I was a medic, for the Rebellion. That’s how I met Cara. I saw enough horrifying injuries to last a lifetime. I was certain, on my first exam, that you were already dead and that your body just didn’t know it yet.”

They sat in silence for a long time, and then she sighed softly. “I’m thankful you’re not dead, Mandalorian. Not just for my sake, or for his sake,” she motioned the child with a small nod. “But because it would hurt my spirit if you lost your life.”

He wasn’t sure what to think of her words. He mulled them over, and she sat silent and still- endlessly patient- while he did. Then he looked down at the Child nestled against his chest, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. “I’m not what you think I am, Sparro.” He didn’t have the heart to see the disillusionment on her face as he explained. “I’m not a hero. I’m not an idol. I’m just a bounty hunter.”

She breathed out a small sigh of laughter. “Oh, you stupid man. You’re so blind.” She stood smoothly, and he went still at the sensation of her tiny hand running across the top of his helmet as she turned away. “It’s all right. We see you for what you really are.” And she was gone.


	4. Whereupon Din Tries To Deny Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparro disappears and Din panics.

Din woke with a start, uncertain what had dragged him so urgently from his much-needed sleep. He strained his senses, and realized abruptly that it was far too quiet. Sitting up, he grabbed his helmet and put it on with an ease of motion from countless times of repetition. There was no sound of the Child playing, no sounds of Sparro puttering around in her makeshift kitchen. It was possible they were sleeping, but something felt… off.

He threw on his armor and grabbed his blaster from where it lived beneath his pillow, and then released the seal on the door to his quarters- kept sealed whenever his helmet was off.

The Razor Crest was dark and quiet. The hatch was closed, and a quick survey of the ship revealed no sign of Sparro and the Child. Anxiety and worry warred with a surging anger. Had someone taken them? How had he not heard anything? True, he was still exhausted, but he should have sensed something at least.

He opened his weapons cabinet to arm up and then stared in surprise. There was a blaster missing. A new suspicion bloomed and he gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. She had taken the Child. He stalked stiffly toward the closest hatch, intent on finding her. The planet they had landed on was only sparsely populated, which is why had he had chosen this place to finish his recuperation. It wasn’t much more comfortable than cruising aimlessly through space, but at least here they weren’t wasting fuel. He opened the hatch and didn’t even wait for it to drop all the way before he leaped from the Razor Crest in his search for Sparro and the Child.

She hadn’t tried to conceal her tracks, at least. He followed them silently through the dense jungle that covered most of this planet, hunter instincts at the ready and clamoring at him to hurry up, hurry up, the Child might be in danger. A little ways off, he found other footprints that had surrounded hers- bare feet, and small- smaller even next to her tiny boot-clad prints. He continued to track them, realizing she must have continued on with the owners of the small footprints. There was no meandering, so either she had been captured and was being taken somewhere, or she had gone willingly.

The sun rose higher, casting rays of brilliant, dancing light through the gaps in the dense canopy above him. He tuned out the raucous birdsong that wasn’t in the least bit affected by his silent stride through the undergrowth. There was a faint trail now, and off the footprints continued down it. As he paced forward, blaster at the ready, the trail became more and more traveled, eventually becoming a dirt road that had clearly seen the traffic of some two-wheeled conveyances.

There was no other sign of life, aside from the annoyingly loud birds and the scurrying of small rodent-like creatures in the brush to either side of the road. He continued to follow the road as the sun reached its zenith above him. How had they been gone so long without him noticing? He scowled as he considered the herbal tea Sparro had insisted he drink before he fell asleep. Had it been laced with something?

Then gradually, he began to pick up on other noises. It sounded like children playing, with laughter and screeches. And he heard the busy sounds of a village, which came into view as he came around a small bend in the little road. He stopped in shock as he took in the view before him, dropping the blaster to his side.

The Child was playing with a group of dark-skinned, half-naked humanoid children. He was toddling after them in an apparent game of chase, and his little toothy mouth was stretched in a huge grin as his ears were tucked back to help him move faster. He looked… happy, in a way that Din had never seen him look before. Not even on Sorgan had he looked so relaxed and playful and… trusting of his environment.

“Mandalorian! Over here!”

Din’s helmet snapped toward Sparro, who was waving at him. She was seated beside two of the humanoid creatures at a rough table, holding some leaves, clearly keeping an eye on the Child as he played. He stalked toward her, a little stiff-legged, ashamed at the thoughts that had torn through him. He had suspected her of some pretty awful things. He was thankful she could not see his expression.

“Are you feeling any better?” Her smile was sincere as he approached them.

“Yes. Thank you.” Even through the modulator his voice sounded strained. Her fine blond eyebrows went up, and she squinted up at him in suspicion for a moment. “I was surprised to find you gone.”

“Didn’t you read my note?” She tipped her head slightly, lifting a hand to shade her eyes.

“I didn’t see a note.” Had there been a note, and he’d missed it in his panic? He felt even more ashamed.

“Oh, I am so sorry then.” She handed the leaves to the dark-skinned creature to her left who was watching their exchange with intense interest, and then she stood, reaching one hand out as if to touch him. She stopped before she made contact, though, and a strange expression flitted across her face before she dropped her hand, then firmed her jaw and motioned toward the creatures beside her. “These are the Umgawai. As you can see, they are friendly. Unfortunately, they do not speak Basic, so we have been muddling along with hand signs and a little bit of luck.” She offered a strained smile. “This is Fab, and Hap.” The two creatures each inclined their heads as she spoke their names. Din nodded in exchange. “They were sharing some of their herbal remedies with me. Did you know that this planet is chock full of useful vegetation?” She was beaming now, her anxiety forgotten for the moment, and Din glanced toward the towering trees that surrounded the small village nestled in among the jungle. “Why, this plant here, the Umgawai call it Rib-Leaf, is excellent for treating burns.” She gathered the leaves back from the elder Umgawai and held it up, squeezing it gently between her fingers until clear goo seeped from the heavily-veined ribs that ran along the underside of the leaf.

Din was more interested in the play of emotions across her face then he was in the gooey leaf. He couldn’t look away from the animation and excitement that she was expressing, although he tilted his helmet politely toward the plant in her hands.

“They are very generous people, and it’s been very good for the little one to have a way to work out some of his pent-up energy.” A bit of defensiveness colored her tone and she looked up at his helmet with some defiance. “He was going stir-crazy on board the ship.”

Din suspected that she had been, too. "I don’t begrudge you both needing to stretch your legs, Sparro.”

She deflated instantly, although her excitement had faded significantly. She fiddled with the leaves in her hand. “You don’t?”

“No.” She seemed like she was expecting him to say more, and when he didn’t she turned away in disappointment. What had he done wrong now? Scowling- and again thankful that his helmet hid his expression- he turned to survey the little village closer.

His first impression had been entirely too accurate. The Umgawai were clearly nomadic- their conical tents were composed of the hides of striped and spotted small animals, pieced together in a patchwork and supported on frameworks of slender reeds tied together with vines. The “village” was basically composed of dozens of these little tents surrounding a central square with a canopy and a communal cook fire. The Umgawai were humanoid in shape, although very small- the tallest one’s head came only up to Sparro's shoulder- with long, slender, mostly unclothed limbs, and dark, dusky skin. They were completely hairless, even lacking eyelashes to protect the huge golden eyes that blinked owlishly in their narrow faces. What little clothing they wore seemed to be used to cover their sexual organs only, and was made of the same spotted and striped fur-patchwork that the tents were made of.

They were certainly a friendly bunch. Din felt a tug on his leg and peered down at the Child who was grinning gap-toothed up at him. When he realized Din had bent his helmet toward him, he lifted his chubby arms in a demand to be picked up. Din complied silently, and the Child nestled against his chest with a contended gurgle before squirming to be let down again. The children had gone mostly quiet as they watched Din pick up the Child, and then they squealed with delight again when they all raced off together, the Umgawai children letting the Child set the pace on his sturdy but clumsy legs.

“Just a little longer, please?” Sparro pleaded as if she expected him to say no. He nodded silently and paced away from her, finding a place on the edge of the little clearing that held the village and sitting down on the ground with his back to a thick tree. He was clearly going to stay and watch over them. She stared in his direction with a perplexed twist of her brows for a moment before she shrugged and returned her attention to the elders at the table with her.

The Umgawai fed Sparro and the Child a delicious meal- a thick stew full of unfamiliar vegetables and a flatbread made from ground tubers. Then Sparro gathered up several baskets and woven vine bags that the elders of the tribe had pressed on her. Without speaking, Din took them from her, leaving her hands free to gather up the Child who was dozing like a puppy in a pile of youngsters. Two of the younger men led them wordlessly back to the Razor Crest.

The first thing Din saw when he tramped up the ramp was the note she had clearly left on the makeshift table she had cobbled together from storage crates. In his panic, he hadn’t even noticed it. The two Umgawai bid a noisy farewell to the Child and to Sparro outside before she also made her way into the ship. The Child was blinking sleepily, and she tucked him into the pram so he could sleep. “I’ll clean him up in the ‘fresher tomorrow. He’s too tired tonight. Poor little tyke is all tuckered out.”

Din stood awkwardly holding the baskets and bags- not sure where he should put them. Sparro had rearranged everything in the cargo hold and he wasn’t quite sure what went where anymore. Realizing and understanding what the problem was, she hurried to his side and began to relieve him of his burdens. “Thank you, I appreciate you not making a fuss at us for spending so much time away from the ship.”

“We should get moving at first light. We may have already stayed far too long in one place.” His voice was quiet, the modulator barely picking up on it.

She nodded. “I know, I know. But it was so nice to socialize, and to let him play with other children, and even to learn more about these plants. I’ll be able to restock some of our supplies from what grows naturally here, and it won’t cost us anything but time. I think I can even make some tinctures and salves, using what the elders gave us.” She was rummaging in the bags, and he stood nearby in awkward silence, just watching.

He felt guilty all of a sudden, and it made him angry. He was doing this for her. He should be taking more time to hunt bounties, or following some of the leads he had received about the Child’s possible ancestry. Instead, he was gallivanting around space trying to keep her safe while they waited to hear from Cara.

What was she running from, anyways? He had never asked, had just jumped when Cara said jump, without asking ‘how high.’ He supposed it didn’t really matter anyhow at this point, but he was more than ready to get this finished up so he could get on with his life, without her disruptions and…

But the thought of his ship without her quiet but positive presence… the thought of the sadness the Child would feel once she left… it all turned that anger on its head. He bit back a disgusted noise, but she must have sensed something because she looked up at him inquiringly. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the cargo area, heading for the cockpit. He’d check for messages, and decide what their next stop would be, and… and just stay away from the temptation he’d been feeling to relax around her, to get to know her better… Nothing good could come of any of that.

He was brooding in the pilot’s seat, slouched down uncharacteristically, his hands steepled before his helmet, when she came up the ladder behind him. She made plenty of noise, probably trying to warn him of her approach, and he just ignored her for a long moment. She cleared her throat, shifting her weight as she stood behind him. “I brought you something to eat. I know it’s been a long day, and you probably didn’t eat before you came to find us. You need sustenance, to finish recovering from your injuries.”

He felt bad again, for brooding when she was just trying to be helpful. He straightened in the pilot seat, turning to take the bowl she was offering him. “Thank you.”

“I… can I ask you something, Mandalorian?”

He had never heard her so hesitant. He inclined his head once, in permission.

“Are you upset with me?” Her face was calm and composed, but her eyes were an anxious maelstrom of color.

He was frustrated with the situation, not with her. He was also terrified that she was becoming far too comfortable a fixture in his life. “No, I’m not upset with you Sparro.”

“But you are upset about something, am I right?” She bit her lip, and his gaze was riveted to where her white teeth dimpled the full flesh. His thumb twitched, craving the opportunity to reach up and smooth her mouth back into her usual smile. There was nowhere to go, no way to avoid answering.

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

Her brows creased for a brief moment and then she took a deep breath. “Well, I’m sorry that I’ve become such a nuisance, Mandalorian. I’ll work harder to be less of a pain in the neck, k?” She offered a smile at last, but it was lopsided and uncertain. Half his instincts were screaming at him to comfort her, to put her at ease. But what would that accomplish? The other half of him wanted to shove her further away, to drop her off on some remote planet and leave her behind. But, again, the thought of never seeing her again made an actual physical ache in his chest. He rubbed at his cuirass distractedly where the pain seared him, and her gaze sharpened as she immediately became all business. “Are you okay? Are your injuries bothering you?” She reached for him. “Maybe I should-.”

He caught her wrists, preventing her from touching him. He was distractedly amazed again at how frail her wrists felt, and at how much of oaf he felt like holding her with his large, gloved hands. “I’m fine, healing well.”

She searched the visor of his helmet as if she could see his face, as if she were trying to determine if he was telling the truth just from the expression that she couldn’t see. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She nodded hesitantly. “All right. But please, if you even suspect something is off, please tell me. I don’t think I can handle seeing you at death’s door again.”

That was a reminder of how little she really could fit into his world. His life was dangerous, it always would be. It was bad enough that he was exposing the Child to this life, but they were family now and he would never consider leaving him behind again. “Why don’t you get some sleep.”

Her brow furrowed and she searched his visor again, but then finally sighed in resignation and turned to leave him alone with his thoughts. The bowl of food went cold, and he left it where he’d set it.


	5. Finally, the Good Part...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparro decides to take matters into her own hands, literally... things finally get yummy!

Din quit eating the meals she offered him, and returned to eating his ration bars. He avoided her the best he could, spending most of his time in the cockpit alone. He worked very, very hard to keep an opposite schedule from her, convincing himself that by keeping different shifts they could better watch the kid. His weapons had never been cleaner, and neither had his quarters. He took on extra bounties, telling himself that they needed the funds, although they really didn’t. She watched him with sad eyes whenever they were in the same space together, and he outright ignored the instincts to reassure her that everything was okay.

Finally, the day came that he had both been looking forward to and dreading. There was a message from Cara Dune. He sat in the pilot’s chair, hand poised over the button, warring with himself. Finally, he forced himself to play the holomessage.

Cara had pulled some strings. Sparro was a free woman, and shouldn’t have any further problems with the Cooz Clan. She also had been cleared of the charges that the New Republic had accused her of. Cara invited her to come and visit Navarro, maybe try making a home there. “I know you’ve always had itchy feet, Sparro, but it’s not so bad here. Lots of action, and plenty to do. We could use a warrior of your skill, plus you’re a medic and you know medics are always in short supply in the outer limits. Maybe I can finally convince you to quit hopping from planet to planet and job to job. At the least, please come visit. It would be nice to see you again. It’s been a long time.”

He played the message through four times before he shoved himself to his feet and made his way down to the cargo area. She was sitting on the floor with the child nestled against her belly, and they were looking at a datapad together. She was bent over the Child, her hair loose and hanging like a curtain, her voice soft and sure. At the sound of his boots on the floor her head lifted and she peered up at him with a glowing smile.

That smile was like a blaster shot to the gut. He actually missed a step, and she noticed the hitch in his gait immediately. “Are you-.”

He shook his head sharply. “I’m fine. There’s a message for you.”

Her eyes lit up. “From Cara?”

He nodded, and reached down to pick up the Child, desperately ignoring how the backs of his gloves brushed up against the inside of her thighs for a moment. The Child gurgled and grinned up at Din, clearly pleased to have his foster father’s full attention. Sparro scrambled to her feet and dashed toward the cockpit.

The Child yawned hugely, and Din nestled him close before settling him into his pod. “Get some sleep, little guy.” His tone was as soft and gentle as he could manage as he tucked the blanket up around the little green creature that was so dependent on him. “You’ll want to be awake to spend as much time with her as you can.” Those huge eyes were focused intently on him, clearly listening to every word he spoke. “She’s done with us, kiddo. Time for her to return to her own life. Enjoy what time you have left, okay? I know you’ll miss her. So will I.” Strangely, it was true. As much time as he had spent trying to convince himself that helping her was only trouble, she had wormed her way into every facet of his being. It was best that she was leaving. Surely, it was.

He hadn’t realized that she had turned back to ask him a question. He only realized that she was standing there when he turned away from the pram. She was watching him intently, face composed but eyes dark. “Will you really miss me, Mandalorian?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, his gloves catching on his cowl. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

“But I did hear it. Will you miss me?” She wasn’t going to back down. She clearly wanted an answer.

He considered lying to her. That would be the easiest decision. But he was a man of his word, and lying didn’t set easily with him. “Yes.”

Her eyes went wide. “But I thought you were annoyed with me. I thought that you felt like I’m just a hindrance.” She took a couple of steps toward him and he had to force himself to stand his ground.

“No.” There had been moments, of course. But they had only been moments.

She took a few more steps, her hands clasped tightly together before her. “Are you sure?”

Why did she always feel the need to question him? “I’m sure.”

Now she was so close he could have reached out and touched her. “You don’t regret helping me?”

How could he regret it? Even though his world was going to be turned completely upside down again when she left, how could he regret it? “No.” His tone was soft, almost a whisper, but the modulator picked it up.

Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around him and clenched him in a tight hug, her head pressed to his shoulder. He stumbled back a step, shocked beyond measure, but then caught his footing and stood with arms held awkwardly for a moment before instinct kicked in and he wrapped his long arms around her slender shoulders. This was… strange. It was just as uncomfortable as it was pleasurable. He hadn’t embraced anyone other than the Child for… well, he didn’t know how long it had been.

“I’m sorry but I can’t stop hugging you. Not yet, anyhow.” Her words were muffled against his jacket. “I need this more than you do, I think, but I know you need it too.” She squeezed a little tighter and he let out a ragged breath, the sound staticky through the modulator.

“I don’t understand.” He didn’t, not really.

“Oh you stupid Mandalorian, how can someone so smart be so dumb at the same time?” He stiffened and she laughed softly, her face still pressed into his jacket. “You can act as tough as you want. I know that inside that tough armor, you’re a big gooey softy. And you’re as wounded emotionally as anyone I have ever met. When is the last time someone hugged you?”

“The kid hugged me-.”

She drew back now to peer up into his helmet. He knew she could see nothing more than her reflection, but it still felt as if she were seeing straight into his soul. “I don’t mean the innocence of a child, you stubborn man. You are so hard on this body, so demanding of it. I’ve seen the scars, remember I treated your wounds? When do you allow it to be cherished? Oh, and see, you don’t understand that either.” She reached up a small hand to press it to his helmet, right where his cheek was beneath it. Her touch was unerring, as if she could see right through the visor. “I’ve come to grow very fond of you, Mandalorian.”

“Din.” The name slipped from his lips before he could even think. Her eyes widened again, and while he wished he could take it back, at the same time he was relieved that he had let it slip.

“Din…” She spoke his name as if it were a benediction. Her generous mouth quirked up and he finally, finally gave in and lifted one gloved hand to gently caress her lower lip. She reached up and caught his wrist, not letting him draw back. “I… don’t want to overstep. I don’t know what is permitted and what is not-.”

“The helmet stays on.” There was no question of that.

“And… the gloves? Do they have to stay on?” She caught a fingertip in the edge of one of his gloves, watching his visor closely.

He struggled with his answer. “Only the helmet.”

Her mouth stretched into a pleased smile and she hooked her finger further into his glove, drawing it off of his hand. She dropped it to the floor and then pressed her palm to his, folding her fingers in between his. She brought their joined hands up to her cheek for a brief touch, and then turned her face to press gentle kisses to the slopes of his knuckles. He watched her in fascination, unable to speak, unable to draw away from her. She released his hand and then removed his other glove before repeating the steps on that hand. “What about these pauldrons? Can they come off?” She ran a finger lightly across his signet, her eyes going soft and green- so very, very green. He nodded silently. She continued to dismantle his armor, piece by piece, not rushing, taking her time and as each piece fell to the floor he could feel a part of himself going with it. His walls were crumbling, and that terrified him as much as it thrilled him. His heart was beating a rapid rhythm in his chest, and he had to keep swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat.

Finally she began to strip off his outer layers, starting with his canvas jacket. She peeled it off each arm slowly, following the lines of his muscles beneath his soft undershirt as she went. She had quit talking, and was focused intently on each step of this seduction- for seduction it must surely be- casting her soft, hazy green gaze at him in between each piece of armor.

When her hands went to the outer layer of his trousers, though, he caught her wrists in a steely grip. She looked up at him, her mouth open in a startled “o” of surprise, her eyes wide and going dark. He shook his head sharply. He wasn’t ready to be quite that exposed yet. Instead, he stepped back one small step and began to disrobe her in turn, taking his time just as she had, peeling off one gauzy layer and giving each bit of skin revealed his full attention. When her breasts were finally bared to him, his breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful. His hands trembled when he tested their weight in his palms, and she bit her lip and moaned softly when he brushed his thumbs lightly across her pebbled nipples. She brought her hands up to his, they were so small, but so insistent as she showed him how to touch her, what pressure to put on the perfect mounds, how to roll her nipples between thumb and forefinger to drag more panting moans out of her. Touching her was complete and utter indulgence. The warmth of her silken skin, the texture of her tight nipples, the weight of her perfect, small breasts. One big hand continued the exploration of her, sliding down her smooth belly and beneath the waistband of her gauzy pants, sliding the fabric down as his hand glided over to the dip of her waist, catching on the bone of her hip before he gently pushed the cloth down her legs. He bent to help her step out of the pants, and even through the helmet he caught a whiff of her musky scent. He felt his cock jump in his trousers, and forced his breathing to slow. He wanted this to last.

Now she was bare before him, no hint of shyness in her bold gaze as he stepped back to just look for a moment. She lifted her hands and touched her breasts, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away as he watched her play with her nipples, watched the flush that rose beneath her skin. She was small, but perfectly formed, and his eyes caught the evidence that she had not lived an idle life. There were scars on her body just as there were on his. Cara had called her a warrior. It was suddenly easier to imagine her as one.

“Now I want to see the rest of you. It’s not fair that I be the only naked one here.” Her gentle smile took the sting out of her words, and she reached again for the placket of his trousers. This time he let her work, and this time it was her who helped him step out of his boots and the outer layer of his pants. He stood before her in his under garments- pants, long-sleeved shirt, and socks, and nothing more than his helmet. She purred appreciatively at the obvious bulge of his jutting cock, and ran a finger down its length through the soft fabric of his pants. It jumped as if seeking her touch, and she sighed in pleasure as she hooked her hands into his waistband and tugged, freeing his hard shaft from its prison. She purred again, and he thought for a dizzying moment that he would cum right then and there, from nothing more than the weight of her gaze on his cock. But she wasn’t finished. She reached underneath his shirt and ran her hands up over the expanse of his chest, tweaking his nipples before she worked the fabric up and insisted he lift his arms to allow her to remove the shirt. She leaned forward and laved her tongue across his nipple, then nipped it lightly before suckling gently. He gasped in shock at the contact, and his hands came up to grip her upper arms lightly. She laughed softly and turned her attention to the other nipple before she nuzzled her way across his abdomen and down his belly, dropping to her knees before him.

Seeing her kneeling before him dragged primal instincts from deep inside of him. She sat back on her heels, her green gaze fastened to his rigid cock. She wrapped her fingers around his length, leaning forward to lap at the tip with her tongue, tasting him, and he groaned heavily, knees going weak. He ran his hands into her hair- the silken tresses were so soft- and then gripped firmly, directing her to take him into her mouth. She wrapped her lips around him and swirled her tongue down the underside of his cock and he almost came again. He had never been touched like this, had never even imagined- then she moaned deeply and began to work magic with her lips and tongue and even light grazes of her teeth, and he forgot everything he didn’t know and just reveled in what was happening right now.

The noises she was making combined with her hot, sweet, wet mouth, the feel of his cock hitting the back of her throat, her small hands clenching his ass cheeks, and the feel of her fragile head grasped between his hands sent him over the edge before he could stop it. He gasped again and groaned deeply, thrusting into her mouth in several short, sharp bursts before he was spilling his seed into her throat. She moaned softly and swallowed it all, then drew back a bit and lapped at his softening cock with long, gentle strokes of her tongue until he pulled away from her. She sat back on her heels and looked up at him with her wide green eyes.

“Stars, Sparro-. I didn’t mean-.” He was horrified that he had done that, but she was smiling a secretive smile as she licked at her sticky lips.

“I did mean. Now, we can take our time, and the next time will be slower.”

Some semblance of common sense floated to the forefront of his satiated brain, and he tugged her to her feet even as he kicked off his pants. She giggled at the sight of him in nothing other than helmet and socks, but he dragged her toward his quarters, intent on exploring every crevice and curve of her body- but in full privacy this time. The Child could have woken up at any moment, and Din wasn’t in the least bit interested in an audience. He sealed the door as Sparro climbed onto his bunk.

The sight of Sparro laid out on his bunk- her wide smile and her flushed skin and every inch of her bare to his gaze- was like an aphrodisiac. He felt his cock stirring again just looking at her, and his fingers itched to touch her. He hesitated, but she lifted her arms to him. “Come on, don’t let me get cold, Din.”

His name on her lips drew him forward. He knelt at the foot of the bunk, reaching out one trembling hand to wrap it around the curve of her hip. She shifted a little, her legs spreading, inviting him to explore. He stared at her weeping slit for long moments, and then ran a long finger from the base up through the hot, wet folds and to the little nub of nerves at the top. She gasped and shivered, and licked her full lips. “Oh, more of that please.”

He licked his lips too, although she could not see it. He wanted to do to her what she had done to him, but that wasn’t possible with the helmet. So instead he explored with his hands, and his fingers, and finally slid two of his fingers deep inside of her, as she gasped and clutched handfuls of his blankets in her fists. He drew his fingers out, amazed at the heat of her, and then plunged them back in and her hips bucked. She reached down suddenly, using her own fingers to dip into her slick slit, and then running the tips over that small bundle of nerves he’d touched before. He almost forgot what he was doing, he was so distracted with watching her small fingers glide over the little bud. She panted. “Din, please, don’t stop now. Please, fuck me with your fingers.”

He was more than happy to comply, testing to see how forceful he could be. She writhed on his bunk and her hips bucked up again, and the sounds she was making… Gods, the sighs and the moans and the soft hisses… she suddenly went completely still for a moment, and then her fingers worked more furiously. Din matched her tempo with the thrusting of his own fingers, and she let out a long, low cry as the walls of her pussy clenched down around him. She shuddered and her frantic rubbing of her clit slowed, then finally stopped and she dropped her hand to her side. He pumped his hand gently a few more times as she came down off the orgasm, as her body went limp. “Mmmmm…. Oh my…” She stretched languidly, and then pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Give me your hand.” She motioned to the hand that had been pumping in and out of her, and he gave it over in confusion. She smiled wickedly as she drew the two wet and sticky fingers into her mouth. Mando groaned deeply at both the sight of her suckling her juices from his fingers, and at the sensation that was so similar to what she had done to his cock a short time ago. She licked his palm, then the slopes of his knuckles, making sure she had cleaned every bit of sticky slick from his skin, and then she tugged at him and he stood. She climbed off of the bunk and he watched in absolute fascination to see what she would do next.

“Now… we really play.” She pressed firmly against his chest and then shoved hard, and he stumbled backward to sprawl across the bunk where she had been laying such a short time before. The blanket was damp near his hip. He watched in silence as she climbed up onto the bunk beside him, and then threw her leg across his hips to settle her hot, wet, twitching slit against his aching, hard cock. She slid up and down just a bit, and he reached out to clench her hips tightly, forcing her to stop her torture. She laughed softly and caught his wrists, leaning forward to press his hands above his head. “Nuh uh. You just stay like this, you beautiful man.” Her breasts were pressed into his helmet, and he groaned at the sight of one turgid nipple so close to his eyes.

She ran her hands over his chest as she rocked against his pelvis, her juices slicking his cock. Her fingers tightened over his shoulders and then she slid one hand to the nape of his neck as she bent over him, playing with the dark curls that were visible beneath the helmet. The sensation of her playing with his hair made him groan again and bump his hips up against her, and she laughed softly. “If you don’t hold still I’m going to stop.”

He froze, and she murmured her pleased acceptance of his obedience. She ran her hands again across his chest, tweaking his nipples, and then without warning she was suddenly grasping his cock and tipping her hips and sliding down over him and- gods, it was amazing, and then she was rocking against him, and his cock was sliding up into her deeper and deeper, and the walls of her pussy were milking his turgid length. She lifted her hands to her breasts and his own fingers twitched as he watched her roll her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, then she licked her fingers and did it again, moaning and sighing as she rode him.

Then she dropped her hand to caress them both where he was seated deep inside of her. She caressed his length every time she rocked back, and then slid her finger across her clit as she rocked forward. She began to gasp with every stroke and he could feel her tightening around him. His balls tightened up, threatening to end it all, and he wasn’t ready- he wanted to watch her pleasure herself with him- he wanted to make this last forever- and she seemed to sense it because she slowed down and flattened her palms on his chest, her one hand damp and leaving a sticky smear across his skin. She rolled her hips slowly, laughing softly as his hands fisted above his head. “Oh, Din, you feel so blessedly amazing. You fill me up so perfectly, stretch me out and hit all the right spots. Even when I imagined you touching me, and what you tasted like, and when I touched myself and pretended it was you, I was so very wrong. It was never as good as the reality.” She leaned down to nuzzle beneath his chin and he tipped his head back, trying to distract himself from her words that threatened to make him cum. Envisioning her touching herself and pretending that it was him- gods, that was ridiculously hot.

Then she nipped at the delicate skin of his neck and he grunted and couldn’t stop himself- he clamped his hands on her hips and bucked up deeper into her, then began to thrust hard, and she held on to his shoulders and sighed in pleasure and didn’t stop him as he pounded up into her. Her breasts were bouncing, trembling, the nipples tight pink buds, and he watched them as he focused all of his attention on where they were joined. Then he moved one hand just a bit, and pressed with his thumb at that little bundle of nerves, and she gasped and stiffened and then cried out and fell apart around him, and he followed her only a heartbeat behind.

She was sprawled across his chest, sleeping peacefully. He had one arm around her waist, pinning her into place, and the other hand cupped her ass. She had dragged the blanket over them both, and then pressed tiny kisses to whatever skin she could reach- his shoulder, arm, chest, neck… She had murmured to him about how beautiful he was, she had worshiped each of his scars, she had traced them with gentle fingertips. He had lain still beneath her, afraid to break the spell she had woven around them. As she had drifted off to sleep, he had gathered her close and permitted himself to revel in her slight weight, the warmth of her body, the touch of her skin against his.

What had they done? There was no going back from this. He wouldn’t regret it; he could never regret it, but… what now?


	6. Touch and Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparro continues to wear Din down.

She was a toucher. He should have realized that from watching her interact with the Child. Even among the Umgawai, she had touched- hugging the elders, playing with the children, and treating some of their minor ailments with gentle and patient hands.

He was not a toucher. He hadn’t been, for a long time now if ever, but suddenly he craved that skin-to-skin contact. It was a like a drug- now that he’d had a taste, he couldn’t stop the yearnings. It was a constant battle within him. There was nothing that prevented him from touching her- not even his creed- but it was anathema to everything he had known since… well, since he had been adopted as a foundling.

Din closed his eyes, dragging up long-suppressed memories of his parents. They had been so very affectionate, with constant hugs, kisses, and caresses. Once he became a foundling, though, all that had changed. Overnight, his entire world had crumbled and his clan had taught him to rewire all of his instincts to survive.

Could he rewire them again? Did he want to? On one hand, yes- touching Sparro gave her pleasure and gave him so much more- pleasure, certainly, but also comfort and a maelstrom of other unfamiliar sensations. On the other hand- it also brought confusion, and a deep-seated terror. Then there was that two-sided knife, vulnerability. Being vulnerable to another being was something he hadn’t permitted since his parents died. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to be vulnerable anymore. Trust was hard- maybe impossible in a complete form. Look what had happened with the Umgawai- he had automatically assumed that Sparro had stolen the Child, even though she had never once given him any indication that she wasn’t trustworthy. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. Were his ingrained instincts to set to change?

And even if they weren’t, would she have the patience to wait it out while he figured out how to navigate these treacherous waters, or would she turn tail and run? She was no coward, he knew that, but he also sensed that she would have expectations of him. Expectations that he was confident he could not meet right now, and might never succeed in meeting. Would it be enough for her, if he tried his best?

He grunted and rubbed at the back of his neck, irritated and exhausted by the rodents running around in his brain.

Gentle, smooth hands slid around his neck, gently pushing his hand away, and kneaded into the knotted muscles there. Din sighed, torn between alarm that she had snuck on him yet again and pleasure at the touch. If he was honest with himself, it meant a lot to him that she wanted to touch him so much, while also making him flinch away in reactive habit.

“I’m sorry if I startled you, you seemed lost in thought.”

He dropped his head forward, permitting her to continue with her light massage. He didn’t feel that she needed a response.

“I’d like to go and see Cara.”

He stiffened, all the ease she had rubbed into his muscles gone. He nodded sharply. “Of course.”

She sighed softly behind him, and then reached out to grasp the arms of the pilot’s seat, turning the chair with a strength he hadn’t suspected she had. She stepped smoothly between his knees, placing her hands on either side of his helmet. “Look at me, Din.”

He was already looking. He couldn’t look away.

“I want to go and see Cara, with you at my side. For a visit, nothing more. And then I want to leave Navarro, on the Razor Crest, with you and your boy.” She was earnest, and her expression urged him to believe her. He wanted to.

“Maybe it would be best if you took Cara up on her offer.” Even to his own ears, his modulated voice sounded cold and harsh.

Her generous mouth quirked up on one corner. “No, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, you silly man. We still need to figure out where this is going. Besides, I haven’t had a chance to get you out of my system yet.”

Out of her system? Was that what he was, an itch she couldn’t scratch? Something deep inside of him withered a little at the thought. Well, what had he expected, really?

“Even though I can’t see your face, Din, I can tell you’re trying to pull away from me. Don’t, please.” She eased herself down onto his left leg, nestling against his cuirass, tucking her legs up over his right leg. His arms went out instinctively to cradle her closer. “I’m not asking you for some huge commitment here, I promise.” She nuzzled her face into the cowl at his neck. “I’m just asking for you to try to explore this with me. Let’s see what happens.”

He refused to allow himself to get distracted by her touch, even though it was through several layers of armor. “I’m not sure it can ever go anywhere.” He had commitments that would always have to come first. The Child, now his foundling, his clan, even the Guild.

“Well, we won’t know unless we are willing to try, will we?” He didn’t answer, but she didn’t seem to expect one. “Just think about it, okay?” She wriggled against his chest. “I’m always surprised just how warm your beskar is.” She smoothed a hand down the cuirass, and then pressed a kiss over his heart. “Like it’s a part of you. It is, I guess, in a way. It’s part of your armor, certainly, but also guards everything you are inside that armor. Not just your body, but everything else too. You’ve shown me your body, Din, but you haven’t permitted me to see the rest of you yet.”

He intentionally misunderstood. “I can’t take the helmet off, Sparro. I won’t.”

She sighed into his cowl again, and he felt her warm, moist breath on his skin through the fabric. “You know I’m not talking about your face. I don’t need to see your face to see you.”

She said that now, but he was certain that over time she would change that opinion. But now she was distracting him in earnest, swinging herself around to straddle his lap, cupping the sides of his helmet in her tiny hands, and pressing her forehead to where his would be. He blinked in surprise. She smiled shyly. “I do know a little about your culture.” Her gesture was the Mandalorian version of a kiss, and the closest his tribe ever got to open physical affection. “I care about you, and I care about what happens to you. Not just because of the kid, okay? There’s a heart of gold under this beskar, and I see that. I feel it. But if you are too-.” She stopped herself, and then continued and he was certain she was going to say something else. “If this intimidates you too much then I will back off, but if you don’t tell me to stop, Din, then understand this. I’m not going to. I’m here for the long haul. I think you’re worth pursuing, and I think I deserve this chance with you. I think you deserve it, too. You don’t agree, I know that, but I hope that you will at least keep an open mind and try. If nothing else happens between us, then at least enjoy what we can give each other on the surface. She reached down to the placket of his pants, and he just watched her face in awe as she undid the fastenings and then pushed down the inner layer, revealing his semi-hard erection. She wrapped her fingers around his length and squeezed gently and he flinched, gasping, becoming fully ready in less than a heartbeat. Her touch undid him.

She was so beautiful; the expression on her face arrested him. She was intent on pleasuring him, on making this feel as good as it had before. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glowing green, and she was biting that lip again. She looked up into his helmet with a sly smile and then shifted herself, and he gasped as she settled over him, sheathing his cock in her hot, wet pussy with no warning. He hadn’t noticed that her loose trousers were actually a skirt. He gripped her hips with his gloved hands, keeping her still for a long span of moments, just savoring the feel of her trembling around him. They were both still fully dressed, and the only point of direct contact was where he penetrated her. She shifted her legs to brace against the seat of the pilot’s chair and then she rocked forward. He groaned as his fingers tightened on her hips hard enough to bruise. “The Child-.”

“Is asleep.” She sighed softly as she began to rock in earnest, reaching down to grip the sides of his cuirass with one hand and bracing the other flat against the beskar. He wanted to touch her, he wanted to feel her breasts is his hands, he wanted to trace her face with his fingers, but he couldn’t focus, couldn’t drag his attention away from their hot, slick point of contact. He was amazed that she had been so wet and yielding, and that she was so eager now. Even with the armor on, even without being able to see a single inch of his body. She was panting, her breath steaming up the visor of his helmet, occluding his vision, forcing him to concentrate even harder on the place where their bodies were joined.

Then she threw her head back with a guttural moan, still clutching his cuirass and he could see her beautiful face, glowing from the pleasure between them. He shifted his hips and helped her move by controlling her hips. She lifted nearly clear each time then thrust herself back down until he was fully sheathed inside of her. It was delicious, and overwhelming, and he would never be able to sit in the pilot’s seat again without remembering this. Her slit was weeping, dampening the placket of his pants, and his tongue darted out to run across his upper lip, wishing he could taste her.

His fingers clenched tightly on her hips, crumpling the fabric of her skirt in an unyielding grip as he helped her to set a rhythm. She was gasping now with each thrust, and so was he. Her body was slicked with sweat and his cooling units were whirring away trying in vain to bring his temperature down. Then she was shattering above him, her pussy throbbing against his shaft as she cried out softly, her movements becoming slower and less regular. He gasped and took over, so close- so close- he used his grip on her hips to raise and lower her, and pumped up into her desperately.

“Come on Din, let it go. Cum for me.” She had pressed her face against the side of his helmet, speaking softly but fervently. “I want to feel your cock throb inside of me as you cum.”

Her words sent him over the edge and he shouted as he pumped up into her in frenetic, short bursts, feeling his seed spilling into her. She clenched around him, her hands on either side of his helmet as she slowly rocked her hips forward and back, drawing every last drop from him. “Mmm…” Her smile was wicked as she bumped against the front of his visor with her forehead, leaving a streak of sweat behind. “Mmm… that was wonderful.”

Indeed it was. He dropped back in the pilot seat, exhausted and spent. She stayed in his lap, his now-softening cock still inside of her, the mixture of their slick juices running down his balls and into the front of his pants.

“See, Din, there are so many things we have not tried yet. At the very least, stick around until we can try them all at least once.” Her smile was wicked, but he saw the worry in her eyes. She thought he would say no.

“I don’t know what I can offer you, Sparro.” It was blunt honesty, and he felt immediately guilty for saying those words while they were still wrapped in the haze of their mutual pleasure.

“For now, Mandalorian, just agree to keep an open mind. Agree to at least think about trying. I won’t make you commit to anything more, not right now.”

He wasn’t sure he could agree to that. “I will consider it.” It was the best he could offer.

She smiled, and her eyes lit up although he still saw the sadness there. “That’s all I’m asking for. That, and the opportunity to use this delicious body any time I want to.” She wriggled one more time and he let out an unsteady sigh as she lifted herself from his lap and his spent cock slid out of her.

He laughed softly at her words, a little surprised. She sat back with a stunned gasp. “Did you really just laugh at me, Mandalorian?”

He met her gaze in concern, worried that he had offended her, but the sadness was gone and she was grinning in earnest, clearly amused. “I guess I did.”

“Hm. Progress. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve worked up a mighty appetite. I could even eat a ration bar with relish. Are you hungry?”

He was, actually. He nodded, and her smile softened a little. “Good. I’ll go get cleaned up and then find something for us to eat. You’ve got to keep your strength up, Mandalorian. I plan to use your body in so many creative ways still.”

He dropped his helmet back into the back of the pilot’s seat, sagging into the comfortable seat weakly. Gods, what had he just agreed to?

********

They returned to an uneasy truce. She still pressed him, but gently, touching him casually through his armor. Her favorite thing was to run her fingers up his backside and under his jacket, untucking his soft undershirt just enough to graze his lower back with her fingertips. He had finally given in and quit tucking it in, to give her easier access. The first time she realized that, she had hummed softly into his cowl. “Hm, more progress. Well done, Din.”

She was insatiable. Every nap was an opportunity for mischief, whether she pleasured him, he pleasured her, or they pleasured each other. She became a pro at removing his armor, and he learned every scar she possessed, asking quietly about each one. He learned knowledge about her that surprised him. She had been a medic, he knew that already, but he didn’t realize that she had also been an assassin. No wonder she could move so stealthily. “Why did you stop?”

She was laying snug alongside him on his bunk as he traced a thick scar across her left collarbone with his bare fingers. She stared at the ceiling of his quarters, eyes not really seeing as she reminisced. “I was hurt, badly. Being the medic meant everyone else depended on me to help heal them, and there wasn’t anyone around to heal me when I fell. It was a blaster shot, and a lucky one. It ricocheted off something, and I was just turning around when it hit me.” She touched a thickly gnarled scar along her ribcage. “My team left me to die.”

Din swallowed hard, horrified. “What? Why?”

She shrugged a little but her unseeing eyes were dark and sad. “The mission came first.”

A cold chill ran down his back and he suppressed a shiver. How many times had he said that? “What happened? How did you survive?”

She chuckled, turning her head to peer into his visor, her awareness back with him. “A couple of Mandalorians found me. I thought they were planning to loot my body, but when they realized that I wasn’t dead, they rescued me. It was touch and go, I’d lost a lot of blood. One of them actually gave me a transfusion there in the field. I was as horrified as I was thankful. And… well… here I am. Alive. Here with you.” She reached up and traced a line down the side of his helmet, her smile a little broken.

That explained why she had been so willing to leave Vasheere with him when she had seen his armor. “Did you… have a relationship with him?”

She laughed softly. “Jealous, Din? Don’t be. They were both females, and it was only friendship, and a brief one at that. As soon as I healed, I went to find my team. I rejoined them, but my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. I turned to bodyguard and escort duties instead.”

So she really was the warrior he had begun to suspect she was. She would be wasting that talent here, essentially babysitting.

“Oh no, you don’t. I can feel you withdrawing. What’s going through that thick, stubborn head of yours, Din?”

He focused on her. “I’m not trying to withdraw.”

Her lips quirked. “But you aren’t trying not to, either. Stay here with me in the moment at least, okay?” She traced around one of his nipples with her fingertip, humming in pleasure when it pebbled beneath her touch. “Our time isn’t up yet. The real world can’t intrude yet.” She shifted as he began to harden against her hip. “I want to watch you, Din. I want to watch you think about me, and touch yourself. You did that before, didn’t you?” She laughed softly at the flush that washed out from beneath his helmet. “Oh I embarrassed you. Don’t be shy, Din, it’s completely natural. I touched myself too, and why do you think I ran through our water reserves so quickly? The ‘fresher is an excellent place for some privacy.”

The thought of her stroking her wet folds while imagining it was him made blood rush to his cock. He hesitated, and she gathered his broad hand, dragged it down, and wrapped his fingers around his stiffening length. He still hesitated, thinking that this was wrong, and she leaned up to whisper against his neck, “I’ll do it too and you can watch.”

His hand clenched involuntarily and his hips jerked, and he watched in awe as she slipped from his bunk and propped her hips against the shelf nearby. She spread her legs, and then set one foot up on the edge of his bunk near his head, giving him a full view as she sucked on her fingers and then slid them through the already-wet, pink folds of her sex. She stroked a few times, ending each stroke with a light caress against her clit. He watched in utter fascination. Then she stopped, giving him an arch look. “If you want to watch, you have to participate. You set the pace, Din.”

At first, he wasn’t sure what she meant, but then she took her free hand and wrapped it around his hand where he was holding his cock. She made him stroke up and down, gently, and she eased her fingers into her slit at the same pace. Realizing suddenly what she wanted, he took control and she released his hand, watching with hooded eyes as he stroked his cock expertly. This was something he had done countless times before. He knew just how to touch to get himself off, how to smooth the tip of his thumb across the tip to spread the dampness gathering there, how to squeeze the head just so, how to set the pace to bring himself to an end as swiftly as possible.

Her eyes were focused intently on his hand, and his were on hers, so close to his face that he could feel her heat on his chest. She sighed as he shifted, and she did indeed match his pace, her fingers slipping in and out of her warmth. She slid her other hand down now, rubbing one fingertip gently over her clit. He reached up his free hand to part her thighs further so he could see better. She gasped and shuddered, and then licked her lips. “Oh, Din, you are so good at this. How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow his strokes. “Too- too many.”

“Mmm… I bothered you, huh?”

“From the beginning almost. You are so beautiful, so kind,…” His words were broken by soft pants. “So sexy…”

“Mmm… same here. Add in that you are so mysterious and guarded, and I never thought I’d have the chance to do this, to watch you, to have you watch me. I thought I heard you a couple of times, but I thought I was just imagining things.” She brought the finger that she had been rubbing lightly over her clit up to her mouth, sucking briefly, dampening the tip with her saliva, and then she returned it to that little mass of nerves with a shuddery sigh. “I wanted to jump you when I followed you back to the Razor Crest that very first evening. You were so uptight, so proper.” She grinned even as she sighed. “With such a very fine ass.”

“How could you even see my ass? I was wearing my cape.” Her distraction had slowed him, and she slowed to match his pace again, wriggling a little.

“Hm, you climbed the path ahead of me, and I peeked.”

He laughed softly and she flushed at the sound. “You peeked?”

“Mm-hm. If you don’t speed things up here, I’m going to get very frustrated.” She shimmied a little, circling her clit with one fingertip a little desperately.

Din grinned, liking this interesting sense of control even without touching her, and obeyed, applying himself to bringing them both to a shuddering climax as quickly as he could. Once he had spent his seed on his own stomach, she wriggled herself into the space beside him again, running a finger through the sticky dampness, tracing patterns in the mess. He flinched and gasped and she grinned again. “Wait, don’t tell me that the mighty Mandalorian bounty hunter is ticklish.”

“Ticklish?” That brought a surge of memories boiling to the surface of his mind- memories long forgotten. His father tickling his mother, breathless happiness and laughter, and then him wanting to join in, and then being tickled by both of them, laughing so hard that he nearly couldn’t breathe, and then looking up at his parents while his father kissed his mother tenderly above his head.

They had loved each other dearly, just as they had loved him. He was torn between realizing that they had taken the risk to love each other in spite of the threat of war that loomed constantly, and between realizing that it didn’t matter in the end. They had died, anyways.

“Din? Where did you go, just now?”

He dragged his attention back to her. “I… just memories.”

“Memories? Good ones, or bad ones?”

“Both.” Every memory of his parents was both good and bad- even the purely innocent memories like that one were discolored by their death and abandonment of him.

Abandonment? Well, that was new. Did he really feel that way? Shaking his head, he forced the thoughts away, distracting himself with her beautiful breasts. She sighed in resignation but didn’t push, although he was sure it would come up again later.


	7. Cara and Sorho Apples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cara gives her approval- sort of- and Sparro comes up with a treat.

Cara greeted Sparro with a warm embrace, startling Din. They really did care for each other. Then Cara held Sparro away from her as she looked her over with a critical eye. “Well, you’re no worse for the wear, eh?”

Sparro laughed and shook her head. Caro looked past her to where Din stood silent with the Child peering out from his sling. “Thank you, Mando, I appreciate your help.” It was a dismissal, and he took it as such, turning to leaving.

Sparro had other ideas, and she reached out to catch his arm. “Actually, Cara…”

Cara’s gaze was riveted to where Sparro was touching him, brows raised. He drew his arm casually out of Sparro’s grasp. Cara’s sharp eyes and rapier mind missed nothing, but she refrained from commenting.

Sparro intentionally ignored the sudden tension. “Cara, I-.”

“I’ll be at the ship, I have to see to some repairs of the Razor Crest.” He wasn’t about to stick around under Cara’s assessing gaze. Being together on the ship was one thing, but this together-in-public stuff made his skin break out into chill bumps. He escaped back to the Razor Crest and after entertaining the kid for awhile, he worked on the repairs. When he had gotten as far as he could without parts, he gathered the kid up into his sling and went looking for what he needed. Once he had purchased the needed parts and had arranged for their delivery to the Razor Crest, he was at loose ends. He hadn’t heard from Sparro, and he began to worry that he wouldn’t. What was Cara telling her about him? He made his way slowly back to where the Razor Crest was docked, stopping on the way to buy some sort of meat-on-a-stick for the Child’s supper.

Cara and Sparro were standing at the open hatch to the Razor Crest when he returned. Cara gave him a curious and assessing gaze, and then nodded to him as if in approval. Confused, he inclined his head back to her and then skirted around them to duck into the ship without having to talk to them. The Child was settled at the table easily enough, and Din slid the meat chunks off of the skewer and then cut them into smaller pieces as Sparro had taught him, so that the greedy little guy wouldn’t choke on them. When he looked up, he discovered Cara watching him. She offered him a wry smile when she realized he had noticed her presence. She gestured toward the open hatch behind her. “Sparro will be right back; she wanted to grab some things for the trip. So…” She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “You and Sparro, huh?”

His stomach rolled and his skin broke out in chill bumps again. He did not comment, and instead turned his attention back to the Child. After a long, drawn-out silence, Cara sighed deeply. “Listen, Mando, it’s not that I don’t approve-.”

He made a sharp gesture with one hand and she went silent, surprised. “I know, Cara. She deserves much more than I can ever be.”

Cara blinked and then laughed softly, shaking her head. “Nope, not what I was going to say.” He looked toward her in surprise. Cara grinned at him. “I was going to say, that you both have a lot going on right now, and both of you are rather tight-lipped about your lives to outsiders. Add in that you both have an alpha side to your personalities, and I am sure that at some point sparks are going to fly. I’m not the best at giving relationship advice, trust me, I know that. But I hope that the two of you can manage to find enough common ground to make something really work. And if you can’t, then I hope you can both walk away relatively unscathed.”

He couldn’t even respond at first. Instead, he looked down at the floor of the cargo area, considering her words. “I’m not sure I’m even capable of any of this.” His words were so quiet that they almost weren’t picked up by the modulator, but Cara heard him.

“Well, at least give yourself a chance, Mando. We all deserve someone who understands us.” She had surprised him again. He hadn’t expected that sort of reaction from Cara. “Besides, I like you, and I like Sparro, and whether you two can work something out or not, I hope you both the best.”

He tipped his head a little, considering her. “Thanks, Cara.”

“Anytime, Mando.” She turned as Sparro came up the ramp. “All right, you two, I’ve got to get back. Safe travels, and check in with me once in awhile, will you?”

Sparro gave her a hug, and then Cara was gone and it was just the three of them again. Din was even more quiet than usual, and it took Sparro awhile of chattering while she stowed some items she’d purchased to notice. Finally, she came to his side, putting a gentle, small hand on his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

He just didn’t know. He had sincerely believed that she wouldn’t even come back to the ship. Now that she was here, with her gear stowed, reality began to sink in. He reached for her hand, curling his gloved fingers in between her slender fingers, palm to palm with only the leather of his glove separating their skin. “Yeah. I think it is.”

Her smile was nearly blinding. It both thrilled him and terrified him. He was going to let her down somehow, he knew it. He would rather walk willingly into a Sarlacc pit than hurt her, but he just didn’t know how to do this. Bounty hunting was easy compared to this. Facing the remnants of the Empire was even easy in comparison. A huge part of him was screaming at him to just walk away now, before he disappointed her even more. He wasn’t used to analyzing himself so much, and he wasn’t sure what needed to happen next.

“So, what do you say to planning out some bounties, huh? I asked Cara to get us some pucks from Greef. I’m not officially a guild member of course, but Cara said I have the makings to be at least a passable bounty hunter. It can't be that much different than being an assassin or a bodyguard, right?”

Din stared at her in silence for a moment, surprised. He hadn’t considered taking her along on his hunts. “What about the kid?”

Her grin twisted a little, although her eyes were sparkling. “Well, we can take turns, or, if you think it’s not going to be too dangerous, we can take him along. I’m an excellent sniper, I can keep a distance while you work up close and personal.”

That wasn’t any more dangerous than what he had been doing with the kid before he picked up Sparro. It wasn’t exactly the ideal life for the kid, but… well, after all, the kid was a Mandalorian foundling now, so… this was his lot. Din nodded sharply. “Let’s see the pucks.”

She let out a little whoop and dug into a bag she had brought on board with her, bringing out four pucks. “I was only able to get four because there are two of us.” Her grin was infectious, and Din found himself smiling beneath his helmet. How strange, that it felt so natural around her. “I was thinking that we should try this guy first, because his last reported location actually isn’t that far from Dagobah.”

Din tilted his head in confusion. “Dagobah?”

Sparro nodded. “Yes, Dagobah. I think we should go there.”

“Why would we want to go to that hellhole?” She wasn’t making any sense.

She slanted him a sideways glance, eyes glittering. “Because my sources tell me that there used to be a funny old man that lived there… with green skin, spectacular ears, and some special powers.”

Din’s heart stopped and he froze. “What?”

“You heard me. Don’t worry, I didn’t share any of our information- they don’t know about the Child, at least not from me. Although there have been some rumors floating around about a terrifying Mandalorian bounty hunter with a strange green baby. The best part of those rumors… is the speculation on your race. Some of the guesses are utterly outrageous.” She came up close to him, still smiling, and traced a line down the front of his helmet. “I can’t tell you how much it excites me to think that I know what’s under that armor, and that I am at the least in the very minority.”

“The minority.” She was literally the only living being since he was a child to see any part of him without his armor.

“Mm-hm. Is it the little guy’s nap time yet?” She cast the Child a glance and then giggled when the Child yawned so huge that his eyes squinted shut. “Either he’s smarter than we are giving him credit for, or it really is his nap time. How convenient.”

Din was confused. “Why convenient?”

She giggled again, scooping the Child up into her arms for a quick cuddle. The Child yawned again, tucking his head into the crook of her shoulder sleepily. “Let’s get you cleaned up little one, and then I need some fun naked time with your daddy.”

Ohhhhh. Flushing beneath his helmet, he closed and sealed the hatch to the Razor Crest and went up to the cockpit to check for messages. That gave Sparro time to get the kid washed up and into his pram. He heard her come up the ladder, and turned to watch as she approached him where he was sitting in the pilot’s chair. He already had some fond memories of things they had done in this chair. She crooked a finger at him, grinning wickedly. “Come here.”

Confused but eager, he stood, pacing forward to close the small space between them. He settled his hands gently on her hips as she reached up her arms and slid them around his neck, then tugged at his cowl until it came free. Curious, he tipped his head slightly, watching and waiting to see what she was up to. She swirled her fingers into the hair at his nape, a mischievous smile on her face. “I have a treat for you.”

A shiver crawled down his back at the sensation of her playing with his hair. Now he was sincerely intrigued. What exactly did she have planned? “A treat, hm?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes. I had to duck back and leave Cara here, so she wouldn’t know about it. I don’t really care if Cara knows about the details of my love life, but I am one hundred percent certain that you would much rather those details stay between us.”

That endeared her to him. “Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re going to thank me all right. Now, off with the beskar. I don’t want to get anything sticky.”

Sticky?! He wanted to ask, but she made it clear by her tone and how quickly she got down to business stowing the parts of his armor in one of the crew seats that she wasn’t going to tell him anything more. Once he was down to his soft undershirt and pants, she let him finish undressing while she stripped out of her own clothing. Before she could do anything else, he snagged her arm and swung her up against the length of his body, reveling in her warmth and the silken touch of her skin from thigh to chest. She hummed softly and pressed tiny kisses to his shoulders and chest, and his cock jumped against her soft belly.

“Mmmm… ready already I see.” She leaned into him, sandwiching his cock between them. “Well, have I got a treat for him.”

“Him?” Amusement laced his tone. “What, does he have his own identity now?”

“Well, I have nicknamed him after all.”

“I’m terrified to ask.”

“Oh no, I’m not telling.” She chuckled as she slid down his body, pausing to press a quick kiss against the flushed tip of the subject of their discussion. He watched her, his hands light on her bare shoulders, his breath catching in his throat. The modulator caught the sound and sent it out as a brief catch of static, and she laughed softly. “I know that sound. It means you like this.” She knelt before him and kissed the tip again, wrapping one small hand around the girth of him. “And this, too, I bet.” She laved her tongue from the base to the top, and then laughed as the sound came through the modulator again. “I like that sound.” She wrapped her lips around his cock, playing the tip of her tongue lightly along the edge of his frenulum, and then repeated the move until that staticky gasp came through again. She peered up at him with her dark green-tinged eyes, urging him to meet her gaze boldly and watch what she was doing to him. His fingers clenched spasmodically on her shoulders, and then she suddenly stopped. “Okay. Stay here. Do. Not. Move. Not one muscle, okay?”

Confused but still curious, and ridiculously hard and eager for her mouth to encase him again, he stood perfectly still, watching her as she moved around the cockpit. She reached for a button, and suddenly the overhead lights turned off, and the only light came from the instrument panels and the scene outside the ship of the landing area of Navarro. Din knew that no one outside could see them, but he suddenly felt very exposed and while part of him was excited at the thought of feeling like they had an audience, the rest of him was horrified at the thought. His erection began to fade, until she pressed another button and the screen went dark. Now, it was only the scant light of the instrument panels, and it wasn’t even enough light to tell quite where she was. She rustled about in what he thought was her discarded clothing, and then she was there again, kneeling at his feet, her hands warm as they wrapped around him, one cupping his balls and the other stroking back his foreskin to press another light kiss to the head of his cock.

“Now, the trick here is, my lovely Mandalorian, that the louder you are, the more I will apply myself. Do you understand?”

He hesitated, realizing that in the dark she could not see him nod. She waited quietly, hands and mouth still. He thought she might wait forever. “Yes, I understand.”

“You’re such a quiet lover, and still so reserved, and I know you have it in you to be the dominant beast I can sense lying dormant deep inside. I want to draw that beast out.” She licked his length again, and then suckled gently but lightly, then drew back again. “I know that it’s going to take some time before you trust me enough to really be yourself, Din, but I want you to know that I will wait however long that is going to take. I will do whatever it takes to teach you that you can trust me.”

“I trust you, Sparro.” His modulator turned his whisper into almost a quiet hiss of words.

She laughed softly. “No you don’t. Not wholly I mean, but that’s okay. _I_ trust _you_ , and that’s a place to start. Now… for your treat.”

This wasn’t the treat? The sharing of trust, the confidence in him when he lacked it for himself, and the amazingly tortuous blow job?

She sat back on her heels- at least that’s what it felt and sounded like what she was doing, then removed her hand from his balls and he heard the sound of what he thought was a bottle opening. She made noises with her mouth as if she was eating something, and then she leaned forward and blew lightly across his cock and his belly. He jumped and gasped, feeling a wash of heat and an almost tingling sensation.

“What is-?” That was far as he got, because then she sank her mouth down over him and he hit the back of her throat and ohmygodsandstarsabove- the sensations were almost too overwhelming. He stopped thinking, and just felt, and there was nothing more he could for a long span- he couldn’t even tell how much time had passed, all he could feel was her mouth and tongue and lips and her hands- she had applied something to her mouth, he had no idea what, and it caused sensations of heat, and cold, and tingles all at the same time. It didn’t dull any of the sensations- as a matter of fact it made them far more intense- so much so that he couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

Sparro drew back at some point. “Too quiet, Din.” Her voice was a soft caress on its own, her breath fanning the sensations that were tingling across his cock. “I guess I need to work harder.” She leaned forward again, and began to caress his balls, running a fingertip across the sensitive stretch of flesh between his balls and his anus and pressing lightly, then returning her hand to his balls again. Both her hands were slicked with whatever it was she was using, and everywhere she touched he felt that combination of heat-cold-tingles.

He forced his mind to function. Too quiet, she said. Flushing darkly, a little embarrassed, he tried to moan for her but it turned into a strangled sigh as his cock bumped up against the back of her throat again, with a little scrape of teeth on the way. She drew back again. “Still too quiet. So now, I will reward you for every noise you make.” She waited, but he couldn’t do it. It felt too artificial, too… not him. “Nothing, Din?” At least she did not sound disappointed. “That’s okay. We can try something else. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Din.”

That sounded easier. “I want your mouth on me.”

“Where on you? Here?” She pressed a light kiss to his knee, then one to his thigh. “Or here?” And then another to his tingling belly, careful not to touch his cock. “Or here?”

“No, I want your mouth on my cock.”

“Mmmm, there we go, that’s what I want to hear. I love it when you talk dirty.” And without any warning, she plunged her mouth over him again, circling the base of his cock with her dainty fingers, unable to close them around his girth, and squeezing gently and stroking to match the rhythm of her mouth and tongue.

Now, he moaned. His head tipped back and his hands moved without him thinking to the top of her head, not pressing, just lightly caressing her hair, moving with the movements of her sucking the hot-cold-tingles up and down his cock. She moaned as well, and the vibrations from her throat added to the almost overwhelming sensations. She wanted him to talk dirty? He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Your lips feels amazing, your tongue is so hot and so-.” He gasped and moaned again as she swirled her tongue around the head, distracting him. He worked to refocus. “So flexible. The feel of your hands on my balls, on my cock, everywhere- makes me want to cum right now.”

She drew back. “Oh don’t cum yet, you handsome man.”

“No… No, I want this to last. Whatever you did, whatever you are using-.” He lost his train of thought again as she reapplied herself to torturing him. “It’s amazing. I can’t- nngh… Sparro- I can’t- stop- please- stop.” He didn’t want it to end like this, as amazing as that would feel.

She ignored him, and he clenched his hands in her hair, holding her head in place as he drew his hips back and away from her. She reached for him in the dark and he turned his torso so she couldn’t find his cock. Feeling emboldened, he suddenly bent and scooped her up, and she let out a little squeak as he lifted her into the air. He plopped her ass down on the closest instrument panel, and reached for her center with his fingers, making sure she was wet and ready for him. He stroked down his cock with one hand until the juices she had left behind coated his palm and fingers, and then he caressed her clit and her weeping folds until she was panting and calling his name. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he plunged his cock deep into her with no warning, and she clutched desperately at his waist, and then bit his left shoulder hard enough to leave a mark as he began to pound desperately into her. Din was grunting now with each thrust, and whispering her name as well, and telling her how good her pussy felt, how beautiful and good she was, and how much he wanted her to cum on his cock. With a shattering cry, she did just that, and her pussy clenched around him spasmodically as he tumbled over the edge a heartbeat behind her, hips jerking and each breath a sharp, noisy exhale. As they both caught their breath afterward, his now-softening cock still sheathed inside of her, she sagged against his chest, her arms limp at her sides and her hair plastered across the sweat that slicked his skin. He held her gently, ignoring his trembling legs, his helmet tipped to the side and resting against the top of her head.

“Wow.” She mumbled it against his skin.

He hummed in agreement.

“That was… wow.” She pressed a gentle kiss where her mouth rested against the top of his shoulder.

“Mmm… what was that, anyhow?”

She giggled weakly. “It’s actually a spice that grows on one of the local moons. It’s meant to be put into food. When cooked, it gives off a completely different reaction.”

“Hmph.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure I want to know where you discovered the helpful tip of using it this way.”

“Oh, I read about it. I’ve never had the opportunity to try it. I was a little worried about the flavor, because none of the texts I found ever really say what it tastes like, just what the sensations are.”

“And how does it taste?”

“Actually, not bad. Sort of like a Sorho apple.”

He shuddered lightly at the idea of something so sour being spread across his cock, but he certainly couldn’t dispute the results.

She shifted a little, and he stepped back a half step, his cock slipping out of her in a small gush of fluid. They both laughed softly, and then she shifted again and they both jumped as a loud alarm began to go off. “Oh goodness, what am I sitting on, Din?”

He felt around to press the correct button, then adjusted a lever, and the alarm went off abruptly. “Don’t worry, that’s only audible in-ship.”

She giggled. “Oh no, I hadn’t even thought of that. Well, I did discover one little tidbit that the books left out aside from the flavor.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s dreadfully sticky. First one to the ‘fresher wins.” She darted beneath his arm and ran naked across the cockpit.

Din stared after her dark silhouette. “Nope, not racing.” Besides, he was certain that sharing the cramped quarters of the ‘fresher- something they had not tried yet- would require some very careful shimmying, and if he had his way- and he intended to- that wriggling could lead to something very, very fun.


	8. Secrets and a New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greef Karga makes a proposition to Din and Sparro on behalf of the Cooz Clan.

Sharing the ‘fresher hadn’t been quite as exciting as Din had wished for. He had never tried to shower while wearing his helmet, and it hadn’t occurred to him until he saw her with her head tipped back under the spray of the water that he could not remove it. Instead of a creative crush in the tiny space, they had washed all the sticky off as efficiently as they could, and then she had led him to his bunk to cuddle. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the intimacy, of course, and it had eventually led to another scorching bout of lovemaking that had left him feeling pleasantly wrung out.

It was a reminder that they were so very different.

Being with her, spending time with her, and the ease and effort with which she had slotted herself into his life had made that easy to forget. He was a Mandalorian, and while she did seem to understand and even accept what it meant for him to be a Mandalorian, he wasn’t sure that they could sustain this. Eventually the excitement and the passion would fade, and then what would they be left with?

“Are you hungry?” Sparro called down to him from the hatch. He was wedged up under the Razor Crest, installing some of the parts that had arrived at some point during their time in the ‘fresher. She was entertaining the kid and giving him some space.

“Thank you, but no.” He was using this time relatively alone to tear apart his confidence just as much as he was tearing apart the ship. When he was with her, most of his doubts were kept at bay. She was such a strong, self-assured, positive presence that it was tough to believe that anything bad could happen. Every time his doubts seemed to creep up on him, she seemed to just know and she soothed him in some way, even if she wasn’t confronting him into admitting that he had doubts in the first place. But… was that a form of denial? Was it just them pretending that those worries weren’t valid?

Distracted, he fumbled the plasma torch and came very close to removing a finger. Cursing beneath his breath, he returned his attention back to the repairs. Before long, though, the thoughts intruded again. He took a deep, steadying breath. Was Cara right, and they should just enjoy what they could while they could? After all, Sparro hadn’t made any demands from him as far as any sort of commitment. Certainly, she had an expectation that they were going to continue to travel together, and she was using her resources- resources he hadn’t even suspected she had- to gather information for him.

That brought a new thought to mind. What did they really know about each other? They had shared plenty of pillow talk, but really there was so much he didn’t know about her. Then again, she knew even less about him, and she rarely pried. She took him at face value- and he shook his head at that because really she couldn’t even do that. She had never seen his face, and never would. Would she be able to live with that? His experience with people in general was that they usually tried to convince him to take the helmet off. Even Cara had encouraged it, trying to talk him into settling on Sorgan with the child.

Sparro also represented a temptation that lay heavy on his heart, because there had been times when he had considered taking the helmet off, even if it was in the cover of darkness. He had considered blindfolding her so that she could not see his face but he could taste her, kiss her, and pleasure her with his mouth. The thoughts were fleeting, but they still occurred, and it tested his resolve a little more every time. He had never- NEVER- been tempted before, he lived his creed and it was literally a part of who he was. It wasn’t her fault, of course, and it wasn’t fair to blame her for his fears and frustrations, but he worried that the more time he spent with her, the worse the temptation would get.

Technically, the ideas that had tempted him might be considered a loophole. He could remove his helmet in pure darkness, or blindfold her, or both. She would not be able to see his face. But that seemed to him like it would be skirting too close to blasphemy. And for what? Physical pleasure? Clearly they had proven time and again that they were more than capable of pleasuring each other with the helmet on. He was certainly not going to commit sacrilege just to taste her.

He finished the last of the repairs and just leaned into the ship for a long moment, not quite ready to go back inside where she and the Child were surely waiting. They couldn’t take off until the repairs were finished, of course. But this was the last of them. There was nothing keeping them here on Navarro any longer, and really they had probably stayed too long as it was. He didn’t regret it- not one single moment- since it had meant more opportunities for lovemaking. But it was time to start their journey again. They had four bounty pucks to cash in on, and Dagobah to investigate.

“Oh, Mando, you haven’t left yet! Excellent!”

Din peered down from the cranny he was tucked in to and then jumped down smoothly, greeting Greef Karga with a slow nod.

“I have something to discuss with you. In private.” Karga gave him a knowing glance, and Din sighed silently. Greef Karga was the king of showmanship. He would not relent until Din gave in and invited him onto the Razor Crest. Din nodded and turned to lead Karga up into the ship.

Sparro gave them a curious look from where she was playing with the child, and Karga point blank stopped dead, shock written across his face for a moment before he smoothed out the expression and smoothed a beaming smile on his face. “You have a guest, Mando!”

“She’s with me. What do you need, Karga?”

That surprise flashed in the other man’s eyes for a brief second again, but he turned his attention away from Sparro to peer around the interior of the Razor Crest in interest. “Well, it just might interest both of you, actually. I’ve been contacted by someone who would like to launch an investigation. It’s not a bounty, of course, but the pay is excellent-.”

“I’m not a detective. Neither is she.”

“Well, I realize that Mando, but hear me out, please.” Karga was as smooth as a used ship salesman. Mando inclined his head, willing to at least listen. “I’m pretty sure your pretty little thing there was involved in the dustup with the Cooz Clan, correct?”

They both stiffened, and Sparro surged to her feet, stepped between Karga and the child. Din noticed her reaction, and it hit him in the gut like a kick from a tauntaun. Fortunately, his armor hid his reaction from Karga and Sparro. “Get to the point, Karga.”

“Right, right.” Karga held his arms slightly out to the side in a gesture intended to show how harmless he was. Fortunately, Din knew better and Sparro clearly wasn’t buying it. “Well, the client is the fiancé to Frale Cooz, she’s some sort of minor nobility I think-.”

“Shaira is the daughter of a New Rebublic ambassador from Naboo.” Sparro’s eyes were narrowed and her fingers twitched at the side of her thigh. She wasn’t wearing a blaster, but Din saw the tell tale signs that she was itching for one.

“Right, well, her father was on his way to go and try to fetch her home, but he never made it. His ship has disappeared without a trace.”

Din tipped his head slightly to the side, considering Karga. “And?”

“And they want to hire someone to check it out!” Karga spoke as if this was obvious.

“Probably one of the Cooz Clan did away with him.” Sparro spoke through gritted teeth.

“Well, I might be inclined to believe that too, little lady, if they weren’t the ones offering the reward for information.” Karga lifted his eyebrows a bit, enjoying the sudden silence that followed his bomb of information.

“Give us the details, Karga. And don’t leave anything out. I’ll decide after if we’re going to help.”

Karga nodded and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms and ankles and relaxing. “The Matriarch is the one who contacted me, and by that I mean personally, via holomessage. She said that she had been negotiating with the girl’s father to garner his blessing for the marriage, and they were very, very close to reaching an agreement when his ship disappeared. Now of course, if he is declared dead, there will be no need for a blessing and the girl can marry Frale and they can live happily ever after. But the Matriarch isn’t happy with this disappearance and wants to know what happened.”

“Where did the ship disappear?” Din sensed that there was something missing to this story.

“The last time the Matriarch spoke with the Ambassador they were preparing to dock at Nyvor-8 to refuel.”

Din cursed silently. Nyvor-8 was a den of nastiness that made Florrum look like haven. “Why there?”

Karga spread his hands again. “No idea.”

“Has anyone checked to see that they actually docked?”

Karga gave him a quelling look. “You really think that the- er- government of Nyvor-8 keeps public records available?”

He had a point. “So, what, you want us to go to Nyvor-8 and what, look around?” Absolutely not. Not with the responsibility of the Child.

“No, actually. The Cooz Clan has tracked down someone who was supposed to be on the ship with the ambassador on Nyvor-8’s second moon, and the Matriarch would like her interviewed, or, if she will not cooperate, brought to Vashere. See? That’s sort of like a bounty.”

“And what else?” Because that sounded far too easy to Din. Sparro’s expression told him that she agreed with him.

“That will depend on the Matriarch, and the information she- or you- gathers from the ambassador’s ship mate.” Karga was really doing his best to appear guileless, but Din’s HUD was showing a slightly accelerated heart rate. Karga was nervous.

“No.”

Karga blinked, but then pushed away from the wall. “Now come on, Mando-.”

“You’re hiding things, Karga. And I suspect whatever it is, it’s imperative to the mission. If you can’t be honest with me, then we aren’t risking our lives over this.”

Karga grimaced, shoulders sagging slightly. “Fine. The shipmate is a Twi’lek named Oara Suu. She is the Ambassador’s- er-.” He coughed lightly into his hand. “Paramour, shall we say.”

Sparro stiffened, scowling. “What?! But the Ambassador is married. His wife is wonderful woman. She’s the one who hired me to escort Shaira.”

Karga shrugged expansively. “What can I say, the man left his wife at home and took his Twi-lek girlfriend with him to fetch his daughter home. Speaks worlds to me.”

Din could literally hear Sparro’s teeth grinding. She was furious. He kept his attention focused on Karga. “Is that it?”

Karga shook his head. “No, there’s one more thing, and then that’s it, I swear. The Matriarch said that the deal they were striking… was going to be very, very lucrative for both of them. She also hinted that there was a possibility that the Ambassador was involved with the Empire in the past.”

Sparro’s jaw literally dropped. “That’s impossible. That can’t be right?”

Karga shrugged again. “I’m just passing along information, after all you asked for it. So, will you take the job? The pay is excellent.” He named a figure that stunned Din.

Din looked to Sparro, who in spite of fuming met his gaze confidently and nodded. Din inclined his head slightly. “We’ll take the job.”

“Excellent! Then let me provide some supplies for your journey, as part of your payment.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Din was certain that Sparro had already made sure they had what they needed.

“Oh no, you misunderstand me. The Matriach insisted.”


End file.
